Spring of Hurt Greg
by McGeeklover
Summary: Chapter 38:Not a new chapter! This will explain my upcoming lack of stories! Bear with me :)
1. Mobbed

**Mobbed**

**Hey all! Here we go again! This time I'm doing Spring of Hurt Greg. I'm doing a total of 50 prompts this time (more if it comes to it) so get them in! I already have a couple from other readers that I've gotten during the year, but after that, it's first come first serve. As always No slash. So, as much as we love him, lets hurt Greg. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own CSI :(**

**This is kind of an AU story (or a 'what if')**

_**Prompt given by: Marymel**_

* * *

Greg looked around the newly opened mob museum in awe. This was the best night ever. He was so fascinated with all this stuff and he knew that his obsession was...strange, but he loved the old Las Vegas. Taking a deep breath and grinning, he went over to Catherine who was looking at her dad's exhibit.

"Congratulations," he smirked, coming up behind her.

"Hmm?" Catherine raised her brow.

"Oscar put your dad in the Spilotro exhibit."

Catherine smiled. "Forgot how handsome he was."

Russell came up next to Catherine and sighed. "'Goodfella's daughter turns CSI.' That's an amazing story."

The blonde shook her head. "No, Sam wasn't a goodfella."

Greg cut in; he knew so much about this stuff and he _loved_ explaining it to people. "He was a _play_fella. When a goodfella wanted to party, Sam was the go-to guy. He provided the women, the supplies, the favors, the security. And those same goodfellas hired Sam to run their casinos. He was connected, but no killer."

Catherine chuckled, taking a sip of her champagne. "Nice spin Greg. Sam...well, all these guys...they were no angels, but family _did_ come first, and they knew how to provide."

"No kidding," Greg butt in again. "Sam gave her a casino. I didn't even get the family wagon."

Catherine laughed as she looked up at Russell. "Are you here with your wife?"

"Uh yeah, yeah...my work wife. Ecklie's over there."

"Mm," Catherine raised her brow.

After Greg showed them the mob wives, they heard the machine guns go off and Greg felt a surge of excitement run through his body. They followed the crowd and waited until the ex-mayor of Vegas got up on stage and presented a speech.

"So with that, everybody raise your glass and we'll say, "Salud"!"

The machine guns went off as everybody raised the glass...and nobody expected to hear louder gunshots followed by the ex-mayor being shot to the ground. As everybody started screaming, Greg was about to duck down when he saw someone running out towards the back entrance...a gun in their hand. He shouted to Catherine before running off, but he had a feeling she didn't hear him over the commotion. Greg turned the corner and rushed dow the hallway, through the loading dock just in time to see the potential shooter head for a running van.

"Hey! Stop where you are LVPD!"

The man turned around as well as the person from inside the car...Joanna one of the mob wives. Greg froze when the gun was pointed at him.

"Shoot him!" Joanna yelled. "We need to get out of here!"

The CSI put his hands up in surrender. "No, wait! Don't"

But his pleads went unheeded and the gun went off. Greg dropped to the ground in pain, gasping. He was just shot! He heard footsteps come closer to him and he looked up to see the security guard hovering over him.

"Knock him out and throw him in the van!" Joanna shouted. "We can't have any witnesses."

The guard raised the gun and Greg raised a hand in a weak surrender. "P-Please...don't."

"Sorry kid." With that, he brought the butt of the gun down on Greg's head and knocked him into a daze. Greg went limp as the guard dragged Greg to the van and carelessly threw him in. Greg moaned, blinking his eyes, but all he could see was a giant blur. He heard doors slam and he flinched at the sound jarring his headache. His side was really starting to burn where the bullet had torn through his body. He felt his arms being pulled behind his back and his wrist being tied tightly together.

"D-Don't...do this," he whispered, having a really hard time staying conscious. He heard the car start and tear out of the lot. He had no idea where they were going, but he prayed that they didn't kill him.

"...brought...on yourself," the man's voice faded in and out. "Shouldn't...nosy."

Greg tried to look up at the man as immense pain surged throughout his body. Groaning, he succumbed to the darkness, fearing that he might never wake up again.

~+CSI+~

Catherine sighed as she and Russell looked around the nearly deserted museum. Things had gone to hell so quickly.

"Take these people into the lobby and get their statements," Ecklie said angrily before walking over to the CSI's. "The mayor is gonna be okay. They just rolled him into the ER."

"Hit in a mob museum?" Catherine raised a brow. Something...someone was missing. "It has to be a publicity stunt."

"Cath, if the former mayor was going to stage his own assassination, I would've known about it and I definitely would've told him no," Ecklie replied.

The blonde bit her lip, looking around. Where was Greg? "Has anyone seen Greg?"

Russell frowned. Come to think of it, ever since the shooting, he hadn't seen the blonde anywhere.

"Greg?" Catherine shouted. "Something isn't right, D.B." After the shooting and everyone was running around panicking, she had heard another gunshot, however it sounded far away. But she thought it was just another shot at the mayor. But now that Greg was missing, she thought differently. She gestured to an officer to follow her and they headed towards the back, Russell on her tail while Ecklie went out front. And what they found when they reached the loading dock made their hearts drop.

"Oh no." Greg's phone was smashed on the ground along with a big puddle of blood, bloody bullet and a casing not far from the mess. There was a trail of the blood leading to an area where the tires made an impression in the dirt.

"You think that's-" Catherine began, the color draining from her face.

"No...it can't be," Russell said. He didn't want to believe it, but it probably was Greg's blood. What happened back here and why was Greg involved?

"Ecklie, we have a problem," D.B. said in to the radio. "Greg's been kidnapped."

* * *

Nick and Morgan walked down the hall of the hotel before turning into one of the rooms where the body of a housekeeper was found with a swizzle stick stabbed into her eye.

"Nice room," Morgan said as she glanced around at the suite.

"Yeah, it's registered in a prince named Jalal Najib," Nick replied as Brass lead them to the next part of the room.

"The victim's name is Maria Garza," Brass said. "The housekeeper for this suite. She works nights from midnight to eight in the morning. The head of housekeeping found her when she didn't show up for her union break."

Nick was about say something when his phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and frowned.

"Hey Catherine."

_ "Nicky...I need you and Morgan to come back to the lab. We have a problem. I've already arranged for another team to take over your scene."_

The Texan frowned. Catherine's voice sounded different...scared. "Why what's going on?"

_"Just come back to the lab...I don't want you driving after-"_

"After what?" His heart was beating wildly in his chest. He looked up to see Morgan and Brass staring at him. "Tell me. What happened?"

_"Nick...Greg's __been__ kidnapped...__and possibly shot.__"_

Nick's blood ran cold and his fingers went numb. He almost dropped his phone but he composed himself, washing a hand down his face. His best friend...his little brother had been taken...and shot! What if he was...no, he couldn't be dead.

"Nick, what's the matter," Morgan whispered.

_"Nick? Are you there?"_

"Uh...y-yeah. We'll be back there in five minutes." He was gonna kill whoever did this.

_"Okay...and Nick. We're gonna find him."_

"I hope so." He hung up and swallowed thickly.

"Jim, Morgan and I have to go. There's another team coming." The two grabbed their kits and headed for the exit.

"Nick, what happened?" Morgan asked worriedly.

"Greg...Greg was shot and kidnapped by someone."

"What?!" Morgan tried to keep her cool, but how could she? She knew Greg had a crush on her but what he or anyone else didn't know was that she liked him, too. And now she might miss out her chance to tell him how she really felt. She kept her tears at bay as she followed Nick out the door and back to the Denali. _Please let us find him alive._

Back at the museum, Russell was looking at the security tapes while Catherine was processing the scene outside. She had to keep it together even though the man she considered a son was in danger. She wiped her eyes and swabbed the blood on the ground.

"Cath," D.B said, poking his head out the door. "You need to come see this."

The blonde nodded, telling the officer to keep an eye on everything before heading back inside and into the office. "What is it?"

"The camera got a little of what happened. Most of it occurred out of view, though."

They watched as a security guard ran out and then turned when he heard something. He pulled out his gun and pulled the trigger. Catherine gasped, knowing that Greg was probably on the receiving end. The guard went off camera for a moment before someone poked their head out of the driver door, shouting something angrily. Joanna.

"That bitch. She was in on the whole thing," Catherine muttered. All of a sudden they saw the guard dragging Greg towards the van and throwing him in before the doors were shut and drove away.

"Jesus Greg," D.B sighed. These guys were heartless. "Well, from what we can tell, they turned right. And thankfully they were stupid enough to forget about the camera and we have a plate. Let's put out a BOLO for Joanna and the van." Russell looked over at Catherine who looked pale and close to tears. "We're gonna find him. _Alive._"

Catherine nodded jerkily and walked out of the room, calling Brass to let him know what was going on. No one hurt her family and Joanna was going to wish she was never born.

* * *

Greg moaned as started to regain consciousness. He was still moving so that meant he was still in the van. Blinking open his eyes, Greg rolled his head around, hearing voices and the motor cutting into his pounding head. His side felt sticky and warm and he remembered he was shot. He tried to move his arms but found them tied behind his back.

"H-Hey...please...p-please let me go," Greg slurred. Man, he had been hit hard. He rolled over to face the front and saw that there was only one person. The guard. He must've dropped Joanna off somewhere.

"Oh I'll let you go," the guard said, sounding a million miles away. The van screeched to a stop before he hopped out; Greg was terrified to see what was going to happen next. The back doors opened and he tried to move away.

"Don't kill me."

"I'm not gonna kill you. I'm just gonna leave you for dead." He grabbed Greg's ankle and pulled him out of the van, letting him land brutally on the ground. A blindfold was tied tightly over his eyes and then he was pushed to the ground, getting repeatedly kicked in the stomach. He couldn't breathe and he prayed for it to all end.

"S-Stop," he cried out. "P-Please." But the man wasn't showing mercy. It seemed like forever, before it stopped. Wheezing, Greg slackened while trying to catch his breath. He knew a couple of his ribs were probably broken and he was going to have a shit ton of bruises soon. Suddenly, he heard tires screech and the noise of the engine fade away until it was completely gone. Greg blinked open his eyes and shook his head vigorously until the bandana slipped down his face and off his eyes. When he realized where he was, he let out a choked sob...he was nowhere. The van was gone. The guard had left him in the middle of the desert. It was dark and cold and he was bleeding out and most likely had a concussion.

"Oh come on." This was no longer the best night of his life. He pressed his palm against the slowly bleeding wound and breathed heavily, looking around the deserted area. A gust of wind blew and it nearly pushed him over; he stumbled around in a circle, trying to figure out what to do. He wished he never went after those people, he wished he had stayed home today. Shivering violently, he knew he just had to start walking; it was better than standing around, waiting to get eaten by a coyote. Greg lifted up his hands and started to gnaw through the duck-tape binding his wrists together. In a few minutes, he managed to get it off and he started the trek down the dirt road, hoping he was choosing the right direction. He just prayed Catherine and Russell realized he was missing before he ended up bleeding to death.

Greg didn't know how far or how long he had been walking by the time he reached some old pay phone in a shady looking neighborhood, but he did know he was feeling like shit. He waned to pass out so bad, but he knew if he did he'd never wake up. He was exhausted, freezing cold and he could barely feel his fingers; he knew he had lost a dangerous amount of blood and that he didn't have a lot of time. Inhaling shakily, he picked up the phone and dialed the only number he really knew by heart. Nick's.

~+CSI+~

Nick had dropped Morgan off at the lab so she could help interrogate Joanna, the bitch mob-wife that did this to his little brother. All they had to do was find the guard and then Greg. He turned the corner and went down a long road...and then he saw it. The black van with the license pate they've been searching for, headed the other way.

He grabbed the radio and spoke to dispatch. "I need backup at Reno and Fifth! Now!" Grinding his teeth, he turned on the siren and cut right in front of him, even though he risked getting hit. Thankfully, the van stopped and Nick jumped out of the car, his gun raised.

"LVPD, get out of the car with your hands up!" He shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Alright, alright!" The man in the car shouted before opening the door, gun in hand.

"Put the gun on the ground!"

"Okay! Jesus." He dropped the gun and Nick ran over, kicking it out of reach before slamming the guard against the van. "Ow, what the hell is going on?"

"Where is he you son of a bitch?" the Texan growled, stowing away his gun and handcuffing the man tightly.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Ahh!"

Nick bent the guard's fingers. "The guy you shot and kidnapped. He's an officer of the law. Where. The hell. Is he?" But he wasn't getting anything.

Nick heard the sirens down the road and when the police cars stopped, he handed the man off with a frustrated groan before going around to the back and opening the door, keeping his fingers crossed that Greg was still there...but it was empty.

"Dammit!" He was about to go lay one out to the guard when his phone started ringing. Grumbling, he picked it up. He didn't have time to talk right now to anyone. He had to find Greg.

"Stokes."

_"N-Nick?"_

"Oh my god. Greg? Buddy, is that you?"

_"Y-Yeah."_

"God, it's so good to hear your voice; where are you, man?"

_"I don't..."_ the line seemed to cut out for a moment and Nick thought he lost the connection when Greg's voice spoke again. _"...ick...you have...find me."_ He heard a lot of static over Greg's voice and the Texan knew the call might not last long.

"I'm gonna find you, kid." He rushed to the car and sped out of there. If Greg had gotten to a pay phone, he must be in town somewhere. "Just hang on. Are you okay?"

_"Mmhm."_

"Come on, G, I know when you're lying."

_ "I'm tired...bleeding...wound...__hurts...cold."_

_Shit._ "Hang on, buddy, okay? Now I gotta hang up and call Archie to find out where you are, but I'm gonna call back in one minute. Don't die on me."

_"Okay...please...hurry."_

"I will." Reluctantly, Nick hung up and called Archie. The kid sounded so scared and tired. He had to be quick. "Arch, I need you to trace my last phone call. It's from Greg."

_"You found him?"_

"He called me and he doesn't sound good, so can you get it?"

_"Yeah, hang on."_

Nick heard speedy typing in the background. Once he got the location, he thanked the man as well as telling him to call an ambulance and hung up so he could call Greg back. He dialed the pay-phone's number and waited. And waited. And waited. Greg wasn't answering.

"Oh god. Come on, Greggo." Why wasn't he answering? He hung up and tried again, this time getting an answer.

_"H-Hello?"_

"Dammit, Greg, don't scare me like that."

_"S-Sorry...tired."_

"I know, man, but you gotta stay awake." Greg sounded so weak...like he was dying. Nick pressed harder on the gas, determined to get there faster no matter how many laws he broke. "I'm almost there."

He cut the corner and finally made it to where Greg was. Hitting the breaks, he jumped out of the car and rushed over to find the young CSI sitting against the pole looking like death warmed over. Even though it was dark, Nick could see the crimson blood staining Greg's shirt and his face looked gray and clammy.

"Jesus, Greggo." He went over to see the phone in Greg's hand, his body shivering violently. "Alright, you can let go of the phone. I'm here now." He took it out of Greg's hand and put it back on the hook.

Greg looked up his glaze over eyes, his breathing sounding anything but normal. "N-Nick? That...that you?"

"Yeah, man. I called the ambulance. You're safe now. How're you doing?" He sat down, cupping Greg's sweaty neck.

"N-Not...to good," Greg wheezed. "Thank you...f-for coming."

"Of course I would come, buddy. I'm not gonna leave you like this. Where else are you injured?"

"Head hurts."

Nick looked around and examined the large bump. "Shit man, they got you good." He looked up, wishing the medics would step on it. He was so pale...more translucent actually. He was loosing too much blood and going into shock. Without caring about getting blood on his clothes, he wrapped his arms around the trembling kid to keep him warm and Greg rested his head on Nick's shoulder.

"So what happened?" Nick said softly, knowing Greg probably had one hell of a headache.

"Chased after the g-guy who shot...shot the mayor. He shot me...woke up in the van...dumped me in the m-middle of nowhere. I don't know how l-long I walked...but so tired. I'm so tired." He leaned more into Nick, closing his eyes.

"Hey, no sleeping, Greg!" Nick shouted, slapping the man's face. "Keep your eyes open."

"C-Can't." The adrenaline was wearing off and he felt weaker than ever. "Weak."

"You're not weak, bud." Nick looked up and knew he couldn't wait any longer for the ambulance. Greg might die if he did. "You're the strongest guy I know. Now come on, I'm bringing you to the hospital."

"What about...ambulance?" Greg asked faintly as Nick helped him to his feet.

"They're taking too long. You gonna be okay to walk?"

"Think so."

Nick wrapped Greg's arm around his shoulder and helped him into the passenger seat. Once Greg was buckled, Nick got into the driver's side and sped back towards town. He looked over to see Greg barely awake and his head lolling on his shoulder. Nick reached over and squeezed his friend's shoulder tightly, keeping it there. "Stay awake, man, alright? You're gonna be fine." He put on the siren, knowing he was gonna have to drive like a maniac if Greg was going to live. What was he saying, of course Greg was going to live. "Stay with me. We're almost there."

He was so tired and he wanted to sleep, but Nick wouldn't let him. The man was shouting at him; he wished he would stop shouting. His head hurt so much. He moaned, putting his head back against the head rest, closing his eyes.

"Greg! Dammit, stay awake!"

"M'cold. Nick...m'so cold."

"Come on man, don't give up on me now. You've fought so hard."

"M'sorry." He couldn't breathe, he couldn't focus. Nick's voice sounded so far away.

"No! Greg I do not accept your apology because you're not allowed to sleep. Greg!" Nick pressed harder on the gas, weaving in and out of cars on the road as it got busier. He grabbed the radio and told the ER to have a trauma team available. "Greg, please...don't give up on me." He couldn't lose his little brother. When he got no response, he looked over and felt sick. Greg's eyes were closed and he was leaning against the window, barely breathing. "Greg! Son of a bitch." Ten seconds later, Nick pulled into the hospital and shouted for help. Not long after, Greg was taken from the car and wheeled out of sight. Nick wiped the tears from his eyes. He prayed he hadn't been too late.

* * *

"Nick!"

The Texan stopped pacing and turned around to see Russell, Catherine, Sara and Morgan rushing into the waiting room. He had almost forgotten that he called Russell some time ago, but his mind was too focussed on Greg.

"How's Greg?" Russell huffed.

"I don't know," Nick sighed, running a hand through his hair. "They took him away half an hour ago and I haven't heard from anyone yet." He looked at Catherine. "It...it was really bad."

The blonde pursed her lips sadly and rubbed the younger man's back. "He'll be okay. Greg's stronger than we give him credit for."

Nick chuckled, wiping his eyes. "Yeah I know it's just...when I found him he looked...almost dead. He was so cold and his lips were almost blue. He had lost so much blood; it was all over his shirt. There was a fricken lump on the back of his head the size of a golf ball, no doubt he has a concussion. And from what he told me, the guard had dumped him out in the middle of nowhere and he had to walk who knows how far to get to a pay-phone."

"I'm gonna kill those assholes," Sara growled, clenching her fists.

"You and me both," Morgan added.

"He had such a hard time staying awake in the car. No matter how much I yelled at him to keep his eyes open...I really thought I was going to lose him. I drove like a maniac to get here...I just hope I wasn't too late."

"You did good, Nick," Russell smiled. "Greg doesn't quit that easily."

When the doctor came out, Nick wasted no time asking if Greg was okay. He had to know; he didn't want the last image of Greg in his mind to be of him dead.

"Greg is fine," Dr. Cameron smiled warmly.

"He's okay?" Nick huffed. "But he passed out...it didn't even sound like he was breathing when I got him here."

"That's just a result of major blood loss. He lost a lot, but we're giving him a transfusion as we speak. The wound was only flesh, fortunately hitting nothing major. He does have a small infection, but the fever is stable and he's on strong antibiotics. He had a few other injuries as well, one of them being a moderate concussion, which, along with the blood loss, is another reason why he lost consciousness. He also has a couple broken ribs and some nasty bruises on his torso, like he had been kicked there repeatedly. Luckily, there was no internal damage, but he's going to be severely sore for the next week or so. I suggest that he take it easy for a while. No strenuous activities."

"Oh I'll make sure of that," Nick said. He knew Greg wasn't going to like being at home for a week or more, because he'd go crazy, but it would heal him faster. "Can we see him?"

"Absolutely. The anesthesia should wear off in a couple hours and he'll most likely be asleep for the rest of the night and tomorrow morning. If you'll follow me; we just moved him to a more private room."

"Thank you, doc," Nick sighed in relief before the team followed the man upstairs and down the hallway. They came to a stop near a small room, Greg's name written on the whiteboard outside the door.

"He's a really strong kid. I have no doubt he'll recover in a few days. If you need anything, the nurses out here can assist you."

Catherine nodded while Nick stared through the small window at his fallen friend. He looked horrible; his face was pasty white, sweat coating his forehead. His eyes appeared sunken with the dark shadows that lined underneath them. A nasal cannula was snaked under his nose and a thick bandage was wrapped around his torso while two I.V's penetrated his arm; one feeding him antibiotics and the other giving him blood.

"Jesus Christ."

"He's fine, Nick," D.B grinned. "You got to him in time."

"I know." _Thank fucking God._ He had already lost one brother three years ago and if he had lost Greg today...well, he didn't think he would be able to cope as well as he did with Warrick. Greg was his crazy, little brother and it was his job to protect him. And since losing Warrick, he was failing to do so. He really needed to step it up, because if something like this happens again, neither one of them will be this fortunate.

**The Next Morning**

Something felt different...besides the fact that he still hurt like hell all over, it no longer felt like he was in the back of a van or laying in the desert. Moaning, he felt a weight on his hand and he scrunched his face up when his side flared up...and that brought back the memories. The mob museum, the mayor getting shot, chasing after the killer, getting shot, getting dumped, walking forever. Nick.

"Nick!" He shot up from his laying position and gasped when his ribs protested. Had he called Nick? Had he passed out again?

"Whoa, easy there, bud. Relax, I'm right here." He felt a hand on his chest, pushing him back down...on pillows? Where was he? He blinked a few times before Nick's face swam into his vision; squinting against the harsh bright light, he looked around and saw four other people surrounding him. It looked like his team.

"Wh-Where am I?"

"The hospital," Russell said softly, squeezing Greg's arm. "Do you remember what happened?"

Greg scrubbed his face and nodded. "Yeah...is the mayor okay?"

Nick snorted. Classic Greg. "You got shot, kidnapped, dumped in the middle of nowhere and you're asking if _he's_ okay?"

"Well, is he?" The blonde said, eagerly waiting for an answer.

"You never cease to amaze me," Catherine grinned. "Yes, he's fine. He was wearing a bulletproof vest. You, on the other hand, were not. Why did you run off like that with no backup?"

"Yeah man, you could've got killed," Nick added.

"I told Cath I was going, but you must not've heard me. I'm sorry."

"Well, don't do it again," Catherine smirked. "What would we do without our Vegas history buff?"

Greg chuckled feebly before yawning, sinking into the pillows.

"We're all just glad you're okay," Nick added.

"Did you...get the guard?"

"Yeah we got him, man," Nick said, squeezing Greg's hand.

"And...Joanna?"

"Yes," said Russell. "Now go back to sleep. The doctor said you're gonna be sore for awhile so you need all the relaxing you can get."

"Mmmhm." Greg's eyes slipped closed and he quickly fell back into the darkness.

The next time he woke up, there was only one person in the room. "Morgan?"

"Hey," the blonde smiled brightly, putting down the magazine she was reading...well barely reading. She was- as creepy as it sounded- watching Greg sleep, hoping that nothing bad would happen. During the past three hours that the man was sleeping, he seemed to regain his color back and his breathing was sounding a lot stronger. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," he grunted as he propped himself higher up on the pillows. "Tired."

Morgan inwardly shook her head when she caught herself staring at Greg's chest. She always thought he was pretty scrawny. Cute, but scrawny; she didn't know he had muscles. Damn. "Yeah, you took quite a beating."

They sat in silence for a minute before Morgan couldn't take it any longer. She had to tell Greg how she felt. "Greg, listen...I need to tell you something. With you getting kidnapped and...nearly dying, it got me thinking. I have to tell you the truth...I've had this huge crush on you ever since I got here. I didn't say anything, because I wasn't sure if you felt the same way," she kept her eyes down, not wanting to know what Greg's reaction would be yet. "You're a hot guy, sweet, and a total catch." Oh god, did she really just say that out loud? "Anyways-"

"Morgan stop," Greg cut her off, grabbing her hand. She looked up and saw a smile on his pale face. "I like you too...well, I actually," he hesitated for a second. "I love you."

"Really?" Morgan said, a grinning forming across her mouth.

And then Greg did a very bold move, planting his lips on Morgan's. They stayed like that for a long, passionate minute before pulling apart, both smiling. "How's that for an answer?" Greg laughed.

Morgan rolled her eyes, lightly slapping Greg on the arm. "You're really something Greg Sanders. But I love you, too."

"Good, cause that would've been awkward."

They both laughed again, Morgan cupping Greg's face and stroking it with her thumb. "I'm glad you're okay, Greg."

"Me too." The two got comfortable, Greg making room for Morgan on the bed and they talked for about an hour before the older CSI finally drifted off. Morgan was about to get up and leave so he could relax better, but when she tried to move, she found that Greg's arm was wrapped around her waist. He stirred, tightening his hold on her.

"D-Don't...leave," he mumbled.

Morgan smirked, shaking her head. She laid back down, resting her head on Greg's warm chest. She sighed in content, listening to his heart beat. "As long as you promise not to either," she whispered before falling asleep.

Nick chuckled as he watched the two younger CSI's curl up together. "Well, it's about damn time, Greggo." His little brother was growing up. But he wouldn't stop protecting him. Ever.

* * *

**FIN**

**Alright! Get those Prompts in! **


	2. Suffocation

**Suffocation**

**Hey all! Thanks for the amazing reviews and prompts so far!**

_**Prompt For: Katie McGee**_

_**Set in season five after Greg becomes a CSI**_

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Greg bounced out of the Denali, camera and CSI kit in hand. He was excited, no scratch that, he was hyper- according to Nick. This was his first scene since he passed his proficiency and he couldn't wait to start really being a CSI. He, Nick, and Warrick were called out to a crime scene in the woods where a dead body was found by a couple of hikers and he was really looking forward to catching the son of a bitch.

"Jesus, Greggo," Nick chuckled as they walked down the short trail to the scene. "How many cups of coffee did you have before you got to work today?"

"I don't know, maybe three, why?"

"Cause you're awfully excited to see a dead body," Warrick laughed. "Are you sure you're not a closeted serial killer or something?"

Greg glared at him. "I don't know, maybe."

Nick rolled his eyes as they got to the clearing. "Okay, it's time to get serious, G. You ready?"

"I was born ready, Nick."

"I'm sure you were." The Texan was proud of his little brother passing his proficiency and he had no doubt that Greg would become one of the best CSI's there were…next to him of course.

"Hey Brass," Nick said, placing his kit down next to him.

"Hey. Not everyday you find a body in the woods. Nice day for a hike…or a murder.

"What do we have?" Warrick asked.

"Steven Ayres, 27 from Carson City. He and three buddies from work went out hiking for some bonding. He went missing the next day and they tried finding him. When they decided to come back and call for help, this is what they found."

"Maybe the bonding didn't work out so well," said Greg. He took a picture of the body and then frowned when something caught his eye.

Nick glanced over at the group of three guys watching the scene from behind the barrier. "Did you get their statements yet?"

"Was waiting for you."

"Good. I have a feeling one of them might be our killer. Greg-"

"Wait, I found a blood trail. Maybe it'll lead to the primary."

Nick nodded, looking impressed Greg had caught that. "Alright, I'll go talk to the witnesses and deal with the crime scene, you and Warrick follow the trail."

Greg's heart sunk a little; he was hoping he could've gone off on his own, but he knew that he was just a level one CSI and it would be a while before Nick or anybody else let him go solo.

"Okay, Rookie, lead the way," Warrick smirked.

Greg nodded and the two headed deeper into the woods and soon the trees seemed to swallow them up, making them disappear. Nick sighed as he watched them leave; he knew Greg could take care of himself and he knew that Warrick wouldn't let anything bad happen, but that didn't keep him from worrying. The kid was like a little brother that he was supposed to protect at all costs…who was he kidding, Greg was twenty-seven years old, and there was nothing to worry about…right?

Fifteen minutes had passed since Greg and Warrick left the crime scene and the trail didn't seem to end.

"Maybe he was dragged," Greg said, snapping a couple photos before moving on. "I mean, could he really walk or crawl this far?"

"Who knows? The human body can do incredible things when it's in danger."

They continued to walk in silence until finally they reached the main scene. And it wasn't hard to miss.

"Shit, that's a lot of blood," Warrick said gruffly. "Whoever attacked him either really hated him or it was an animal. Check the perimeter and see if you can find anything that'll help us. I'll process here."

Greg nodded, setting his kit down, only taking his camera, and headed further into the woods. He was so focused on getting things right that he hadn't noticed how far he'd actually gone…or the unexpected dip in the ground. Greg took another step and gasped in surprise when he lost his balance and fell head first, landing face first in bunch off moss. He groaned when his ribs protested, the camera not being the best thing to land on. As he began pushing himself up, he heard the worst sound that anyone could possibly be close enough to hear…a rattle.

"Shit." Cautiously, he looked up, praying it wasn't what he thought it was. And sure enough he was inches away from bright yellow eyes. A rattlesnake. "Oh god." His heart skipped a beat. This couldn't be happening right now. Swallowing thickly, he called out to Warrick in a wobbly voice, praying that the man was in earshot. He didn't know how far he wandered off, so he could be screwed.

"W-Warrick?"

The snake was glaring at him…it looked pissed. Its mouth was open, fangs out and dripping with saliva and possibly venom. Greg tried to move back, but it hissed and its head expanded threateningly, waving its thick neck in the air. _Great, just great._

He closed his eyes briefly, feeling the sweat drip down his forehead and the blood drain from his body. Clearing his throat, he tried again. "Warrick!" _Please hear me._ Through his heart pounding in his ears, he heard the man's footsteps behind him.

"Greg, I've been looking for you man, don't-" But when the CSI man saw what was going on, he froze. "Fuck. Greg, move back…slowly." He began pulling out his gun from the holster.

"I-I can't…I've tried that already. He got even madder."

"Well, try again."

Greg took a deep breath and started to push himself to sit on his heels…big mistake. In a swift movement, the snake struck, sinking its fangs into Greg's neck. The younger man cried out and fell backwards and Warrick wasted no time putting a couple rounds into the reptile. I went limp and Warrick ran over to Greg who was wheezing in a panic, already pale and in shock.

"Don't move, alright? I'm gonna pull it out and then we're gonna get you to the hospital."

"O-Okay," Greg replied tautly. He was already in so much pain…and breathing was getting difficult.

Carefully, Warrick grabbed the head of the snake and pulled on it, extracting the fangs from Greg's neck. And he knew what the consequences might be if he had…Greg's artery had been hit and now he was bleeding. Bad. He had to get him out of here now.

"Greg, man, open your eyes. I need you to put pressure on the wound, can you do that?"

Greg blinked furiously, his vision already doubling. He could hear Warrick, he could see Warrick, but it was all distorted. He suddenly felt his face sting and he came to the realization that the man had slapped him.

"Greg! Don't quit on me, kid. Can you put your hand on the wound?"

"Y-Yeah," Greg gasped, whimpering in pain as he shakily placing his hand over gushing bite mark.

"Good. Now can you stand up? I can help you, but you're gonna have to work with me here."

"Mmhmm," Greg mumbled.

As Warrick wrapped Greg's arm around his shoulder and his own around the kid's waist, he felt that something was seriously wrong. He knew about Western Rattlesnakes and their bites; the venom wasn't supposed to take effect this quickly, right?

"Okay, lets get the hell out of here." They started heading back to the clearing quickly, Greg stumbling more than actually walking. His breath came out in strangled gasps and when Warrick looked over he could see a blue tint coloring his lips. He swore underneath his breath, willing himself to go faster. Greg was dying.

"You're doing good, kid. Just one foot in front of the other. Don't take your hand away from that wound." He looked forward again, following the blood trail back out of the woods. Nick was going to flip shit when he saw this. Greg puffed heavily and Warrick noticed in the split second he looked away, the younger man had gotten even worse. His eyes were drooping, the blue tint was darker, and his face was void of any color, coated by a thick layer of sweat.

"Greg," Warrick panted, tightening his grip on the man's waist as he started to sink. "Are you…are you allergic to snake bites?"

"I don't…I don't think so. M-Maybe? Can't…can't remember. M'tired."

"No! No sleeping, Greg!" The older man growled, hoisting him up higher. "We're almost there. The kid _had_ to be having an allergic reaction and if they didn't get him to a hospital in the next fifteen minutes, Greg was as good as dead.

Greg couldn't focus. He was tripping over his own feet and his heart was pounding frantically against his chest. He was going to die because he messed up once again. The blood on his now swollen neck was seeping through his numb fingers and he was beginning to feel extremely cold. He could hear Warrick shouting at him to stay awake, but it was challenging. He was so goddamn tired…and thirsty. He needed water. He wanted to stop running.

"Wanna…st'p," he slurred, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head.

"We can't stop, Greg. You're gonna die if we stop."

"Tired." His legs were tingling until he could no longer feel them. In seconds, he was paralyzed and he slipped from Warrick's grip collapsing to the ground.

"Dammit," Warrick murmured. "Greg, get up." The kid was barely conscious and his gasps for air were longer and weaker. Licking his lips, he slipped his arms underneath Greg's back and behind his knees, picking up the weightless man bridal style and continuing the journey out of the woods. It wasn't long before he heard Nick's voice and saw the man running towards him with his gun out.

"Warrick! Greg! Are you guys okay? I heard a-" And then he saw an extremely pale and limp Greg in Warrick's arms, blood spilling out from somewhere on his neck and soaking the collar of his shirt. "Holy shit." He could barely breathe. Greg was hurt. "Was he…was he shot?"

"No," Warrick huffed, trying to catch his breath. "He was bit by a rattlesnake; call an ambulance, I think he's having an allergic reaction to the venom. He's not gonna last much longer, Nick."

Nick paled, his throat feeling dry. "N-No. No forget the ambulance, it's gonna take too long to get out here and back. Get in the car and drive."

Nodding silently and informing the officer of the situation, Warrick passed Greg off to Nick and they both ran to the Denali, Nick getting in the back cradling the younger CSI and Warrick getting in the front. In moments, they were tearing out of the lot towards the nearest hospital.

Nick stifled a sob as he looked down at his best friend. "Oh god." He brushed back the strands of sweaty blonde hair from the man's forehead. He grabbed a towel from the seat pocket and pressed it up against Greg's bleeding neck. "How did this happen?"

"We were following the trail," Warrick said, turning the corner onto the main road and pressing harder on the gas. He flicked on the siren, knowing they had absolutely no time to be pulled over. It was life and death right now for the young CSI and they were _not_ going to lose him. "And we found the primary. I guess Greg wandered off when he was searching the perimeter and the next thing I know he's face to face with a pissed off snake. He tried to move but it attacked him."

"Jesus." Nick cupped Greg's freezing cold cheek and suddenly the kid gasped, his eyes flying open…as much as the swelling would let him. "Greg, oh man, this is so bad. Greg, buddy can you hear me?" He seemed to be deteriorating with each passing second; his lips were a grayish blue whereas his face was transparent besides the patches of a red rash that seemed to spread on his neck and cheeks. This was no doubt an allergic reaction. "Greggo, stay with me, alright?"

Greg was like a fish out of water, gasping periodically for air and not exhaling at all. His dull brown eyes looked up at Nick in fear. He was dying…he wasn't going to make it. He was going to die in Nick's arms. A tear slipped out of the corner of his eye and Nick smiled sadly, wiping it away. "You're gonna be just fine, G. Don't you think otherwise. 'Rick drive faster!"

"T-Tir'd Ni…" Greg managed to whisper faintly, shivering uncontrollably.

"Greg, please don't give up. Please. You can't sleep yet." He ran his fingers through Greg's curls, hoping to relax the man a little.

"M's-sorry…sc-screwed…up. L-Let…down."

Even in choppy sentences, Nick knew what Greg was saying. "No, buddy, you could never let me down. You've been doing so great. Just keep breathing." _I don't want to lose you._ Unexpectedly, Greg's cheeks bulged and he retched violently and Nick swiftly grabbed the kid's chin, turning it away from him, careful of the bite wound. Not because he was disgusted, but he didn't want Greg gagging on his own vomit. He was already in enough pain. While his thumb was under Greg's chin, his brow creased worriedly at the rapid pulse…and then no pulse at all. His frown deepened as he turned Greg's head up again and saw that his eyes were closed and his mouth was slack…no air coming out.

"Greg?" He brushed his hand down the kid's face as his heart beat frantically. "Greg! No, no, no." This couldn't possibly be happening, right? He slapped Greg's cheek roughly but it did nothing. "Warrick, how far?!"

"A couple minutes!"

Nick began to hyperventilate and he looked down at his basically dead friend…brother. He was supposed to protect him and he failed. "You didn't let me down, Greggo. I let you down." He pressed the now blood soaked towel firmer to the man's neck. Greg didn't need blood loss above the allergic reaction…though he had already lost so much. The Texan hugged Greg tighter, letting a few tears drip down his face. All he could do now was hope and pray. He desperately prayed that today wouldn't have been the last day he saw his best friend smile…or alive.

~+CSI+~

The Texan hugged himself as he paced the waiting room anxiously. Greg had _died_ in his arms. Something he never thought would happen in his entire life. The kid didn't deserve this. The second the doctors took the man away from him, they shoved a tube down his throat and started CPR.

"He's gonna be okay, man," Warrick said before looking down at his watch. It had been nearly two hours and they haven't heard any news. While Nick was throwing up in the bathroom, he had called Catherine and Grissom, telling them where they were and what happened. They were gonna come after their scene; they knew Nick had it all under control and that Greg was in good hands.

"I know, I know," Nick whispered as he looked up at the double doors. "Dammit, what's taking them so long?"

"It was bad Nick, it's gonna take some time."

The Texan groaned in frustration, running a hand through his hair. He just needed to know if Greg was going to be alright…if he was going to live. Warrick had his own demons spinning through his mind; he shouldn't have left Greg go off on his own. He was supposed to be watching him. The kid was his little brother, too, and now he might die. No, he wasn't going to die; Greg was a strong person. He scrubbed a hand across his face and sat back in the uncomfortable plastic chair.

"I'm about to punch a fucking wall," Nick muttered.

Warrick opened his mouth and stood up to calm his friend down when he saw the doctor that had taken Greg away. "Nick look, its Greg doctor. Take a deep breath."

The Texan spun around and when he saw the woman in the white lab coat, he briskly walked over to her.

"Nick Stokes, right? Gregory's emergency contact."

"Yeah," Nick breathed. "Is he okay?" _Please tell me he's okay._

"He's doing perfectly fine."

"R-Really?" Nick looked baffled. It had been so bad. How can Greg be "perfectly fine"?

"Yes, if you'll follow me, I'll take you to his room; we can walk and talk."

The three went through the doors and started walking down the hall. "Greg had a severe allergic reaction to the venom from the snake bite; otherwise it probably wouldn't have been this bad so quickly. A couple minutes after he was brought in, we managed to revive and get him breathing again. We've given him the anti-venom along with epinephrine for the anaphylaxis. It wasn't long before the swelling started to go down and his breathing became easier. Actually, he's able to breathe on his own, but we have him on an oxygen mask just until he's stronger. The blood loss, however, had been a little more complicated. The bite had hit the artery and he lost nearly two pints of his blood; he was lucky enough to not go into hypovolemic shock. When you see him, it's not going to be pretty; he's extremely pale and he still had some of the rash on parts of his neck and face. He'll also be very worn-out for a while and nauseous from time to time."

"Is he awake?" Warrick asked when he saw that Nick was speechless.

"No and he's probably not going to wake up for another twelve hours or so mostly because of the anesthesia and the fact that he's no doubt exhausted. I'm sure he'll enjoy the company, though." They stopped outside a small room and the doctor smiled warmly. "We're going to keep him here for the next couple of days to monitor his vitals, but if everything goes well, he'll be able to go home in no time. He's a very lucky kid."

"Thank you. For everything," Warrick bobbed his head.

"Of course. The nurses are out here if you need anything at all."

When she left, the two boys went into the quiet room and Nick swore under his breath. The doctor was right; Greg looked horrible. Even underneath the oxygen mask you could still see small red bumps on his cheeks and parts of his neck. Thick white bandages curved around the right side of Greg's neck to the front, speckled with blood in places. His face, like the doctor had said, was colorless with a sheen of sweat beaded on his forehead. Dark shadows underlined his eyes and his breathing still sounded scratchy. Nick pursed his lips as he went over to sit in the chair next to Greg's bed.

"Good God, man. You really know how to get hurt, don't you? And give me a heart attack. But I'm really glad you're okay." He placed a hand on top of Greg's cold one and squeezed it lightly. _Thank god you're okay._

**01:00pm The Next Day**

Nick was reading a magazine while Warrick had gone back to the lab to bring back the kits and whatever evidence they managed to get. The Texan was just about to flip the page when he heard a small whimper come from the bed. Heart jumping into his throat, he tossed the booklet onto the nightstand and sat up quickly.

"Greg? G, buddy can you hear me? It's alright, man. You're safe now." He placed a hand on the blonde's forehead and waited.

His head and ears felt like it was filled with cotton balls; his mouth tasted really disgusting and his throat was dry. As he started to regain consciousness, pain in his entire body made itself present. He moaned softly and when he tried to turn his head, it just felt stiff and made the throbbing worse.

"Easy, Greggo. Just relax." Something cool and soft was on his feverish forehead and it felt good. Wait, he knew that voice. Who else had a Texan accent?

"Nick?" He rasped, still having a hard time opening his eyes. He needed water.

"Right here, bud. Open your eyes."

It took a couple moments, but soon Greg's big brown eyes were staring back at him. The Texan grinned and sat back so he wasn't in the man's face. "Hey dude."

Greg's forehead wrinkled as he blinked a few times while looking at his surroundings. "Where m'I?"

"The hospital. You had an allergic reaction to a snake bite do you-"

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Greg mumbled. Nick's eyes widened and he grabbed a bowl from the nightstand and helped the younger CSI sit up just in time for him to start puking violently.

Nick pressed his lips together sadly as he rubbed his back soothingly. "Let it out, buddy."

After a minute or so, Greg finished and wiped his mouth, resting back into the pillows. Nick gave him a small cup of water and he gulped it down immediately.

"The doctor said you would be nauseous for a little bit."

Greg nodded and took a deep breath.

"Did you know you were allergic?" Nick questioned.

"N-No," Greg blinked sluggishly. He was already so tired and he hadn't even been up for more than three minutes.

"Jesus. You scared the shit out of Warrick and me. Don't ever do that again, okay?"

The blonde looked over at Nick with sad eyes. "M'sorry."

"It's fine. Just stay away from snakes. I don't ever want to feel as helpless as I did the other day. I have to tell you…you died in my arms. I did everything I could, but I let you down."

Greg lifted his hand and placed it over Nick's. "No you didn't…saved me." These goddamn drugs. Why couldn't they just let him be awake? "Thank you."

Nick smiled weakly and squeezed the man's fingers. "You're welcome. Hey, and Warrick saved you too. Had it not been for him carrying you out of the woods and driving to the hospital like a maniac…well..." he didn't even want to think about it. "I'm just really glad you're alive, G. I don't know what I would've done if I had lost you."

Greg hummed with a weak smile, becoming too tired to even speak anymore. "Not…leaving…easy."

"Of course not, buddy. You're a beast…though you should probably eat more so you're not so scrawny."

Greg gave him a weak glare. "Shuddup."

Nick chuckled, finally feeling like he was able to relax. "Go to sleep dude, I'll be here when you wake up."

"'Kay…an' Nick? Next…time you're going…in the w-woods."

"Alright, deal. Now go to sleep."

"Mmhmm." Greg's eyes slipped close and he was out like a light.

Nick smirked and ruffled Greg's blonde hair before getting up to close the shades. Greg needed all the rest he could get if he wanted to get out of here, because he was sure the younger CSI wanted to get right back to work. He sat back down and sighed in content. He hadn't slept for two nights because he wasn't letting Greg wake up alone. But now he could; Greg was going to be just fine. He always knew that deep down.

"You're gonna be a hell of a CSI, G. I can already see it." If Greg could survive a snake attack slash allergic reaction, he could beat anything.

**FIN!**

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Kind of ironic that the episode after 'Who Shot Sherlock,' where Greg passed his test, is called 'Snakes.' PROMPTS AND REVIEWS!**

**Here are the readers I have prompts from so far:**

_**What's'SupWitChu**_

_**Macberly**_

_**Lighting'sHalo**_

_**Bluejay141519**_

_**Doodlelidooo**_

_**Guest (1)**_

_**Marymel**_

**NEED MORE PROMPTS!**


	3. Skinny

**Skinny**

**Hey all! Thanks for the amazing reviews and prompts!**

_**Prompt is for: What's'SupWithChu**_

**Enjoy!**

Nick knew something was wrong with Greg the second he came back from his two week vacation. And Greg definitely needed it after everything that happened with the Fannysmackin' gang. The thought of Greg getting beat up still pissed Nick off; he was angry with them and with himself for not being able to protect his family. Nick wouldn't admit it, but he was excited for the kid to return; it hadn't been the same without the ball of light and the entire team wanted him back. But when Greg stepped into the lab that night, he seemed different…pale, sad looking and skinnier than normal. Something was definitely wrong, but even as an overprotective big brother, he didn't want to say anything and be mistaken. Maybe he was sick or something.  
"Hey man," Nick grinned as Greg came into the break room, getting a coffee.

"Hey," Greg grinned, but the corners of his mouth not quite reaching his eyes like they used to.

"How was your vacation?"

The blonde shrugged. "It was okay. I went to San Diego to see my mom." He took a sip of coffee, leaning against the counter. What he wasn't telling Nick was that he went home and his father, who had been MIA for most of his life, showed up…and he wasn't too kind. He abused his mom before going after him. His self-esteem had been low since the attack and his dad made it worse. It wasn't much of a relaxing vacation. Greg pulled down his sleeves to hide the hand shaped bruises on his wrists. He didn't need to drag anyone into this. He could deal with it on his own.

Nick, being a big brother noticed this, but again he didn't want to say anything yet. "That sounds nice. Did you have fun?"

Greg forced a smile. "Yeah…it was alright."

Nick was about to say something when Catherine poked her head in. "Greg! Good to see you back!" She smiled. He still had healing cuts on his face and he looked a bit pale, but all in all he looked okay. "You guys up for a case?"

"Always," Greg said happily. Maybe it would get his mind off of his nightmares and his father. And maybe Nick would quit asking him questions. He knew the Texan was catching on to something.

"Great, there's a B&amp;E case gone sour at the drug store, three 419's."

Greg's swallowed thickly. Another drug store…just like the time he got beat up. His hands shook and he put down his mug before he ended spilling it. _Take a deep breath Sanders. Pull yourself together._

"Greg?"

He flinched, breaking out of his thoughts to see Catherine standing in front of him, a worried look on her face.

"Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah? Why?"

"Your hands are shaking and you were breathing funny."

"No…I mean, yeah I'm fine." He looked up at Nick and he had a frown on his face.

"You sure?" Catherine said, rubbing his arm. "If…If it's too much for you-"

"No! I mean, I said I was fine. Can we just go?" He dumped out his coffee and quickly exited the break room and headed outside to wait for Nick by the Denali.

"Keep on eye on him, Nicky," Catherine said once Greg was gone.

The Texan nodded. "I always do." You didn't need to tell him twice. When he got outside, he and Greg slipped into the car and drove off. Greg remained silent the entire ride, not even attempting to change the radio station when Nick had put it to country. He continued to give the blonde nervous glances before he spoke up. It was weird when the kid didn't talk.

"So…what did you do in San Diego? You surf or meet girls?"

A faint smile appeared on Greg's face, but he continued to look out his window. "No, sadly I didn't. I just stayed in with my mom." _And protected her from getting beaten._

"How is she? Your mom?"

"She fine."

_Fine. Fine. Fine. _That's all that was coming out of his friend's mouth. What was with these short word answers? Usually he couldn't get Greg to shut up. Nick sighed as he turned the corner and drove towards the police cars at their scene. He noticed Greg shifted uncomfortably in his seat and when he stopped the car he turned to the man.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay with this scene? I can work it myself if you want."

"Nick, I'm fine! Why do people keep asking me if I'm okay? I'm okay!" He grumbled angrily as he opened the door and slammed it shut.

"Jesus," Nick whispered as he watched Greg storm towards the crime scene with his kit. He rarely, if never, saw Greg get mad like that; something had changed in the kid and he was going to find out what.

~+CSI+~

When Greg got home, he dropped his things on the ground and leaned against the closed door, taking a deep breath. The case had been a struggle, but he managed to push past what happened before and close it. Nick wanted to go out for drinks so they could catch up, but he was tired and in pain and just wanted to shower and sleep. He was hungry, but every time he ate, his father's cruel words replayed in his mind, making him insecure and sick. He sounded like a teenage girl, but it was true. Wiping a hand down his face, he knew he had to try and eat something. He was becoming underweight and he knew it…no doubt Nick and the rest of the team knew it too. Going to the kitchen, he made a turkey sandwich and ate the entire thing. It wasn't long before he thought of his time back at home…the things his dad said to him. _Weak, pathetic, ugly…freak._ That was the worst one. _Freak, freak, freak._ His body trembled and he started to feel nauseous. Slapping a hand on his mouth, he bolted from the couch and towards the bathroom. He barely made it to the toilet before he heaved, what he had eaten, in the bowl. His body shook violently, tears running down his face. He hated this but it made somehow made him feel better. Five minutes later, Greg finished and wiped his mouth, leaning against the wall…and started crying. This was the fifth time he had done this and he could already see his body changing. He knew it was wrong but he couldn't stop himself. His body would refuse. He curled up against the wall and hugged himself tightly as he cried himself into exhaustion. The next morning, Greg woke up, sick and sore; sleeping upright was not the best thing to do. Groaning in pain, he crawled over to the sink and grabbed the basin, shakily pulling himself up. And when he looked at himself in the mirror, he muttered a curse. He looked like shit…literally; his face was drawn and pale with dark circles underneath his dull brown eyes. He spit into the sink a couple times to try and rid the foul taste in his mouth then he lifted up his shirt and noticed since his "vacation" that he was getting skinnier. He could almost make out his ribs underneath his skin.

"What am I gonna do?" He whispered to himself before looking at his watch. _Ten past six. _He was late. "Shit." He stumbled out of the bathroom and changed his clothes, trying to make himself look presentable. His phone suddenly rang and he grabbed it off the nightstand to answer it.

"Hello?"

_"Greg, man, where the hell are you? We got a crime scene to go to."_

"Y-Yeah…sorry I got the page just now. I g-guess I overslept."

Silence. _"Are you okay, G? You sound different. Are you sick or something?"_

Greg cleared his throat and wiped his face. "I'm just tired. I didn't sleep well. I'll be okay. Just need my coffee," he added with a weak chuckle.

_"…Okay. I'll text you the address. I'm already on my way there."_

"Alright." Without letting Nick get out another word, Greg hung up and exhaled heavily. Today was going to be a very long day.

When he got to the crime scene, he put on his sunglasses and started walking to where Nick was snapping pictures of the dead body.

"Hey," he said as he ducked underneath the tape and set his kit down.

Nick looked up with a grin. "Hey…whoa." And then his face fell when he saw Greg. He didn't think it was possible for him to look worse in a day, but the kid managed to pull it off. "You okay, bud? You really look sick."

"Well, I'm not. So can we just focus on the case?" Greg snapped.

Nick frowned. Something was seriously off about his friend. The clothes he was wearing seemed to be a lot baggier, his face was gaunt and pale and if he looked closely he could see the kid's body trembling. And the fact that Greg wouldn't tell him what was going on kind of hurt; they were best friends, brothers even and he was shutting him out. Taking a deep breath, Nick continued to take pictures and when they were about to head back to their cars, he pulled Greg aside. He was a bit shocked when he took the blonde's arm. He could almost wrap his entire hand around the kid's bicep.

"Greg, I know something is wrong with you. Just tell me what it is; you know I'm here for you."

Greg looked up at the Texan, pursing his lips. He _really_ wanted to tell Nick what was going on…what really happened on his vacation, but…he was afraid that the man would laugh at him. He had some girly disorder…he made himself throw up to feel better after his father's hateful words penetrated his mind over and over again.

"Greg," Nick shook the man a little when he spaced out. "Talk to me, buddy."

The blonde pulled away, wiping his eyes underneath the glasses. "I don't want to talk about it, Nick. Please…just l-leave me alone. I'll see you b-back at the lab." He quickly walked away, trying not to burst into tears in front of the man. Only when he got into his car and drove away did he start crying.

Nick stood in shock as he watched Greg walk away from him and then drive away. He had noticed the kid had been trying to hold back tears and it made his heart ache that whatever was getting his little brother upset was causing him this much pain. Maybe it was about the beatings…but he seemed fine before he left to go to San Diego. Nick ran a hand through his short hair and started towards his car. He knew the kid wanted him to let it go, but that wasn't who he was. Greg was hurting and it was his job as a big brother to fix it.

**Four Days Later**

It had been almost a week since Greg had returned and no matter what, he seemed to be declining fast. He was either depressed and apologetic about the smallest things like when Nick had accidently knocked Greg's mug on the floor from the counter and Greg kept saying he was sorry and it was his fault for leaving it too close to the edge…even though it hadn't been; or he was quiet and angry, his temper short with everyone…Greg never had a temper. So when he got angry, everyone in the lab knew something was wrong with their friend. And he was losing a lot of weight really quickly…this had been going on way too long.

Warrick walked into the break room where Nick was sitting, eating a sandwich while watching TV.

"Hey man, what's up?" He smirked.

The man looked around to make sure they were alone. "Have you noticed Greg's been a little…off lately?"

Nick sighed heavily. "Yeah…why?"

"Well, I went into the bathroom a couple minutes ago and the kid was leaning over the sink and crying his eyes out. When I tried to ask him about it he made a mad dash to the door. Now I have no idea where he went."

"God," Nick breathed. He needed to do something about this soon before something bad happened.

Greg sobbed as he sat on the roof, hugging himself because he was so cold. _Freak, you're a freak Gregory!_ He shut his eyes, trying to block out the words. Warrick had caught him crying in the bathroom and no doubt he was going to tell Nick. Maybe it was a good thing…maybe Nick wouldn't laugh if he told him…no, he couldn't take that chance. Because if Nick did that then he wouldn't be able to do this anymore; if he didn't know what Nick thought then it would be okay. But nothing was okay…he was getting skinnier and he was always nervous at crime scenes, afraid that he would get attacked again. And that just brought him back to his own dad attacking him…beating him. Greg cried harder, biting his fist. He couldn't be here right now. He felt so sick and he just wanted to go home and be alone. He was losing his strength, his confidence in himself and he knew it would only be a matter of time before…no he couldn't do that. Suicide wasn't the answer. Or was it? Getting up, Greg swayed from a head rush before he went back downstairs, grabbed his things and left a note for an absent Grissom that he was sick and wouldn't be in for a few days. Maybe in that time he could get his head on straight and his affairs in order. He was falling apart and he had no one to help him deal with it. He was all alone. Like always.

The next morning Nick paced in the break room, waiting for Greg to show. He had to confront the kid and get him to talk before it was too late. Greg was literally wasting away in front of them. The Texan glanced down at his watch with a frustrated groan; the younger CSI was over twenty minutes late and if Grissom noticed, Greg would be in a lot of trouble. He wiped a hand down his face and crossed his arms; what was going on with him?

"Nicky," Grissom said as stepped into the room, handing him a slip of paper. "I got a scene for you. Double murder."

"Um…Greg's not here yet."

Grissom looked up at him. "I know that. He left a note yesterday saying he would be out sick. You're going solo on this one."

"Oh," Nick frowned and took the paper, looking down at the address. "Okay."

"Is that a problem?"

"No, It's just…weird. Greg never gets sick."

"The job gets to us at some time, Nick." Grissom left the room and Nick scratched his head. He had to go see this for himself after he finished with the scene. An hour later found Nick standing outside Greg's apartment and knocking on his door.

"Greg! Open up man! We need to talk!"

Silence. He bit his lip and looked up and down the hallway. He was worried; it could be possible that Greg was just sleeping, but his gut was telling him otherwise.

"Greg!" Still nothing. "Dammit." He reached up above the door and grabbed the spare key to unlock the door. When he stepped inside, he felt a shiver go down his spine at how quiet it was. "Greggo? You in here?" He walked cautiously towards Greg's bedroom and when he saw the light on in the bathroom, he knew the kid must be in there. As he got closer, he could hear violent retching. Maybe he really was sick. Quietly, he pushed open the door and to someone who wasn't looking close enough, it would look like Greg was sick and unwillingly throwing up, but Nick was his big brother…and Greg was sticking his finger down his throat…_making_ himself throw up. And then it dawned on him; the anger, the depression, the weight loss, all of it. He had seen it in his older sister when he was a kid. Greg had bulimia.

"Greg…why?"

The man flinched at the sudden voice and he lifted his head up to see Nick in the doorway. "Nick! What are you doing here?" He shot up from the floor and knew that was a big mistake. He started feeling lightheaded.

"Greg, what are you doing man?"

"I-It's not…it's not what-" he blinked his eyes a few times so he would stop seeing three Nick's but it wasn't helping. Before he could get out another word, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he succumbed to the darkness.

"Greg!" Nick ran forward and caught the blonde before he hit the ground. And he was heartbroken at how light the kid was. He must be weighing between one hundred to one hundred and twenty pounds. Not good. He brought Greg's upper body onto his lap, holding him tightly with one arm and taking his phone out with his free hand. Once he called an ambulance, he really got a look at his little brother. He was too skinny and too pale. His cheekbones seemed to stick out and eyes appeared sunken.

"Jesus Greggo. Why did you do this to yourself?" He tightened his grip and rested his chin on top of Greg's head. "Why didn't you come to me?"

~+CSI+~

"Family of Greg Sanders?"

Nick lifted his head up from his hands, seeing Greg's doctor and standing up to go meet him. "That's me; Nick Stokes. How is he?"

"He's stable," Dr. Marc said.

Nick breathed sigh of relief, letting the tension melt away from his shoulders.

"I must say, you got him here at a good time. A couple more weeks of this and we would've had more complications."

"Like what?"

"Heart and kidney problems. But we've checked and he has none; he's lucky. He is, however, severely dehydrated and malnourished. He's gravelly underweight, nearly sixty-five pounds, to be exact. We have him on saline solution to rehydrate his body as well as nutrients to help with the malnutrition. It will be a while before he regains the weight, however we suggest he has some psychotherapy sessions to figure out what caused the bulimia. We can also have dieticians and other health care providers help with getting him back to a healthy weight."

Nick nodded. "If…If I talk to him about this…will he still need a therapist?" He didn't want Greg to be embarrassed.

Dr. Marc raised an eyebrow. "If you can get him to open up, he won't. But this isn't really something you can overcome overnight."

"I know." He _was_ going to get Greg to open up about this. He had been extremely lenient about leaving things alone, but now Greg was in the hospital because of it. It had gone too far. "Is he awake? Can I see him?"

"He isn't awake and probably won't be for the next couple of hours, but you're welcome to sit with him. He's in room 145 down the hall. He should be able to go home within the next couple of days, I just want to keep an eye on him for a while."

"Thank you." Nick started down the hall towards Greg's room. And when he got there, he just shook his head sadly. The kid looked so small and sick; wires were sticking out of the crook of his elbow, feeding him nutrients and the machines around the bed appeared to tower over him. Nick quietly walked over and dragged a chair to the bed, sitting down and folding his hands together.

"Greg, I'm your best friend…your family. How could you not tell me about this? How could you not tell me something was wrong? You know I would never make fun of you, right?" Of course he wouldn't get a response, but he was hoping. He washed both hands down his face before resting his hand on Greg's bony shoulder. "I'm here for you man. Whatever it'll take, I'll always be here for you."

Two hours later, Greg began to regain consciousness. Nick sat up anxiously as he watched Greg's eyes flicker open, the normally bright brown eyes dull with drugs and no doubt sadness.

"Greggo?"

Greg rolled his head to face the Texan a confused frown on his face. "Where am I?" He rasped.

"The hospital. Do you remember anything?"

Greg averted his eyes but nodded. "Yeah," he replied quietly.

Nick nodded and continued to look at Greg. "What's going on man? This isn't like you. And I'm not leaving here until you tell me."

"Nick please-"

"No Greg! I let it cross the line; you could've really injured yourself. The doctor said you were lucky to not have heart or kidney problems! Please just…just tell me."

Tears slipped out of Greg's eyes and Nick placed his hand over Greg's.

"It's okay, buddy. You can tell me."

It took a moment, but Greg finally took a deep breath and opened his mouth. "My dad."

"What?"

"My dad came home while I was on vacation."

"I thought you didn't know who your dad was."

"I lied. I mean…he walked out on my mom when I was seven but…I knew him. And he came back…drunk."

Nick's forehead creased. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

The blonde swallowed as he lifted his shirt up and Nick gasped. There were dark ugly bruises scattered all over Greg's chest and torso.

"G-Greg…is that from the beatings?" Surely they weren't if they looked this fresh.

"N-No…my dad was abusive when I was younger…and two weeks ago. I tried protecting my mom and…I just made it worse. Not much of a vacation," he chuckled sadly.

"Oh Greg," Nick whispered. "Why didn't you say anything about that? Why did you…do what you did?"

"My dad wasn't very motivational and my self-esteem was already low after the attacks…he called me a freak and pathetic and ugly. I know it sounds stupid to, you know, puke over that but…I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to laugh at me."

"Greg, I would _never_ laugh at you about something this serious. You could've really hurt yourself. You do, however have to worry about me finding your dad and killing him." The kid had gone through hell and back; he had had been through enough in this past month. He didn't need crap from his own flesh and blood.

Greg choked a sob, wiping the tears from his face. "I'm sorry, Nick."

The Texan pressed his lips together before grabbing Greg's shoulders and bringing him into a gentle hug. The man suddenly broke out into heart-wracking sobs and Nick tightened his hold, rubbing his back.

"It's gonna be okay, G. You're gonna be okay, alright? You're not alone in this. I promise I got your back."

The blonde buried his face into Nick's chest and cried for a good five minutes. Everything that happened since the beatings was raining down on him at once. When his crying finally ceased, Nick didn't let go. He _wouldn't_ let go. Not until the kid seemed a little bit better. A few minutes later, Greg pulled away, wiping his eyes with a sheepish smile.

"Thank you, Nick. I _am_ sorry I didn't tell you about this before."

"I know. I'm just glad you're okay, man. I'm always here for you no matter what."

Greg took a deep breath and nodded. He should've known from the start Nick would never judge him about this. They were brothers and nothing could change that.

**One Month Later**

Greg stepped into the lab, a huge smile on his face. It had been four weeks since his meltdown and he was starting to get better. He took another week off to have a real vacation on his own and he was feeling optimistic. His dietician had helped him get back on his feet and gained back forty-five pounds already. He walked down the hall, waving at people who said hello until he got to the break room to see Nick reading the paper. When Greg knocked on the doorframe, Nick looked up and broke out into a grin, putting the paper down and standing up.

"G-Man! You're back!" He brought the smaller man into a bear hug. Before Greg had left for his vacation he had still been a bit on the skinny side, but now he looked to be at a healthy weight, he seemed happier and he was glad for that. The kid had really pulled through. He always did. After breaking apart, the two sat down.

"How are you feeling? You look good."

"Are you hitting on me?" Greg joked and Nick just rolled his eyes. "But yeah, I'm feeling a lot better. Thanks to you."

"I didn't really do anything, bud, you did it yourself. And I'm proud of you."

Greg shrugged. "I know but…if I didn't talk to you about this…if you never broke into my apartment-"

"Hey, I didn't break in, there was a key," Nick chuckled.

Greg smirked. "I'm gonna have to find another place to put it now."

Nick shook his head and laughed.

"Anyways, yeah, you saved me from myself Nick. I'll always be grateful for that. Thank you."

Nick ruffled Greg's hair, earning a half-hearted glare. "No problem little bro. Now, you ready for a case?"

"Am I ever." He missed his job and his friends and now nothing could get him down. Nick had given him all the support and confidence he needed and he wouldn't forget that.

**FIN**

**Kind of short, but I hope you liked it!**

**Next prompt for: **_**Macberly**_

_**Lighting'sHalo**_

_**Bluejay141519**_

_**Doodlelidooo**_

_**Guest (1)**_

_**Marymel**_

_**Anonymous**_

_**Marymel**_

_**CamilaAlgo**_

_**Meggysmeg**_


	4. The Fallen

**The Fallen**

_**Prompt for: Macberly**_

_**Enjoy!**_

* * *

"So how are we gonna let Russell know there's a microphone in this epi-pen?" Brass said.

Greg swallowed and took a deep breath. He couldn't really believe what was happening right now. It was all going by in a blur and now a bunch of officers were dead or injured, D.B was being held hostage in their own lab and a kid was doing all of this…well probably not all, someone else could be calling the shots. But right now, they couldn't do anything until they got sound in interrogation. And he was going to be the one to make that happen.

"I can take care of that," he said, standing up. He knew this was a big risk, but they had to do something…_he _had to do something and sitting around wasn't on the list. Two minutes later found SWAT walking in front of him before moving out of the way, their shield creating a barrier beside and behind him. He exhaled shakily, staring at the illuminated interrogation door that held three people inside. When he stopped, a red laser pointed at his chest before trailing up to his head and he tried to keep his cool. Never in his entire life had he felt so close between life and death…besides the explosion and the beating, however. This seemed to be so much worse; one wrong move and he'd have a bullet tearing through his brain.

"Set the bag and the laptop on the ground!" The gun wielding teenager shouted, his arm around Russell's neck.

Greg did as he was told.

"Hands to the side and turn around!"

He spun around slowly, hands in the air. Sweat dripped down his face as he started to regret doing this. He wasn't really cut out for this kind of stuff. Nick was better at it or maybe Brass, but him? No, definitely not. He should've let the Texan do this, because he had a feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong.

Nick watched in the background as Greg turned a three sixty. He crossed his arms, his heart pumping a million miles per second. He had volunteered to do this rather than Greg… actually more like demanded, because he wasn't too thrilled the younger man was doing it. Not that he didn't think he was capable, but because this teen was crazy and he didn't know what he would do. If something happened, he would never forgive himself; besides Sara, Greg was the only family he had left. Not that Morgan, D.B and Finn weren't but Greg and Sara were there from the start. They had history. He couldn't lose Greg to something like this…he couldn't lose another family member. Sure, Warrick's death had been five years ago, but it was still fresh in his mind as if it happened yesterday.

When Greg finished turning, he stared at the kid and D.B calmly. "I'm not armed. Just the delivery guy." But maybe he could be more. An idea popped up into his head, albeit not a very safe one, but if he had a chance to save a civilian he was going to do it. Pretty soon, D.B was walking out of the room and Greg felt a little at ease.

"Good to see you're still in one piece."

Russell nodded. "How bad?"

"Pretty bad."

The older man swallowed, sweat dripping down his forehead. "What do you got for me?"

"It's all here," he replied. "Water, meds, oh and I grabbed your epi-pen from your desk." He flipped it over and indicated the microphone.

"I'll keep it close by, thank you."

It was now or never. "I think we should exchange," he whispered.

Russell frowned. "Are you crazy?"

"No, not you, Jacob. He's going to die unless we get him out now. And what better hostage is another cop?"

"Absolutely not, Greg. I'm not roping you into this. It's too dangerous."

"I don't care. If we want to get this over with without any more casualties, than switching would be the best thing to do."

"Why?"

But before Greg could answer, they could hear the teen shout angrily. "Hey, what's the hold-up?"

"No hold-up," Russell replied quickly before looking at Greg. "You sure?"

Greg nodded, pursing his lips when all a sudden, a bullet whizzed past him, inches from his head. _Shit._

"What are you guys talking about!? Get in here or I'll kill this kid!"

"We want to make a deal," Russell shouted. "Greg, here, for Jacob."

"No deal!"

"He's going to die if he doesn't get a doctor soon. If he dies, there goes your leverage."

The teen was silent for a moment before speaking again. "Fine. Get back in here, both of you now! Then the paramedics can come."

Russell gave one last look to Greg before the two walked into the interrogation room.

"What the hell is he doing?!" Nick shouted as he stared incredulously at the computer screen. Greg was going into the room with a kid holding a gun. He really didn't like what was happening. Seconds later, he saw paramedics pass SWAT and go into the room, coming out in minutes with Jacob on a gurney. Greg traded places. _Dammit, G._ "What the hell are you thinking man?" He whispered, staring nervously at the screen. It was taking all of his willpower not to intervene.

"Take off your vest!" The teen shouted, still pointing his gun at him. His leverage was gone…he needed a new one. He wasn't happy about the switch, but realized he could use this to his advantage.

"Why?" Greg replied, though he shouldn't be questioning someone who had a weapon.

"Because I said so! Take it off!"

"Greg, take off the vest," Russell said softly even though he had a feeling something bad was coming.

Greg knew this wasn't gonna be good, but he did what the boy told him and shed his protective vest. The second it dropped to the floor, the teen pulled the trigger and shot him in the side, propelling him backwards into the wall painfully.

"Hey!" Russell shouted angrily, going to Greg side.

"No!" Nick watched as Greg was shot and fell to the ground. He could no longer hold himself back and he started to run out into the hallway, but Brass held him back.

"Nicky, you can't go."

"The hell I can't."

"No, we can't risk anything. Who knows what else that kid will do. I promise we'll get them out of there alive. We have eyes and ear in there now, so just calm down. It'll be over soon."

The Texan pursed his lips before sighing heavily and sitting in a nearby chair. This was beginning to be too much. When he got his hands on whoever was making the kid do this, he was going to kill them.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Russell growled, helping Greg to the floor. The man was shot in the lower chest and the slight whistling he heard and the fact that Greg was already having a hard time breathing told him that a lung had been hit. "We just got the injured guy out and you made a new one?"

"You have nothing to lose if a civilian dies. But with this cop, what I want will happen faster because his life depends on it."

"Y-You're crazy," Greg gasped in pain, blood seeping through his fingers as he tried to put pressure on it. Good thing they still had the bags. They definitely were going to need them.

Russell glared at the teen while squeezing Greg's arm reassuringly. "So what is it that you want to happen then?"

~+CSI+~

An half an hour had passed and Greg was already getting worse. The bleeding wouldn't stop even with the dozens of bandages they had pressed over it, his face was a grayish hue, dark purple shadows underneath his eyes and his lips were a light blue not to mention how badly he was sweating from the high fever. His breathing was bad, too, sounding like he was breathing out of a mud clogged straw.

"Just hang on, Greg," Russell said, applying more bandages, lifting up the man's shirt off the wound. Greg's stomach was rising and falling heavily and Russell knew the kid was scared. He tapped Greg's face when his eyes started to close. "No sleeping."

"S-Sorry," he choked, slumping more against the wall. "M'tired." He could barely focus, sounds fading in and out. He didn't want to die, but it seemed that is what was going to happen.

"I know." Russell looked up and his heart nearly stopped when the teen picked up the epi-pen and examined it. _Please don't find the microphone._ "Hey, hey, do me a favor will ya? Give me a hand."

The teen looked up at him suspiciously and Russell rolled his eyes. "I'm not asking you to put the gun down. I just need…I just need a hand." He pointed to the bag that had supplies in it. "Give me some water…please."

The teen hesitated for a moment, putting the necklace he had in his mouth…and it was taking too long for Russell. "Oh come on, are you afraid to get your hands bloody or something? Hand me the water."

Finally, the boy let up, putting the epi-pen back in the bag and reaching over to the other one to grab the water bottle, handing it to Russell. "Thanks." The older man began pouring it onto Greg's stomach and the blonde flinched at the unfamiliar feeling. "Sorry bud." He tried to make a conversation with the boy about his St. Christopher necklace, but his attempt went unheeded once again. The kid didn't want to talk.

"Well, we're in for a long evening."

"Maybe…" he replied. "Maybe not."

Greg groaned. He was sick of this. "Come on, w-what is…is your problem?" The teen trained his gun on him and he tensed up. "M'just saying. If this is supposed to be a suicide mission, why aren't you dead?"

Russell put down the water bottle. "You know something? I think you're wondering the same thing. There's someone out there you don't want to hurt. Someone that's worried about you; maybe the same person that gave you that medal."

"And I'm thinking you should shut up," the teen sneered.

Russell sighed as he picked up the bottle and poured more water onto Greg, but that only agitated the blonde more. He gasped, causing him to cough…cough up blood.

"Crap." He handed the bottle over to the teen. "Hold this for just a second. Easy, Greg, easy." When Greg finally stopped, he shut his eyes, trying to get his breathing somewhat back to normal.

"You alright?"

"Y-Yeah…kinda," he said, wiping his mouth.

Russell was getting worried. Greg was going to bleed out soon. He turned to the boy and held out his hand for the bottle again. "Thanks." He took it by the top and placed it back on the ground. Little did the teen know that the blood that was on the plastic served as a perfect ink for fingerprints. While the kid was distracted with the laptop, Russell turned the bottle around to have the print face the camera. He just hoped Nick and the others saw it and knew what to do.

And they did. Not long after they got the print, they found the boy's, known as Mark Powell, mother, Cynthia, and brought her in. She looked worried and confused, having a hard time believing that her son would do all this. They led her to the computer where she could see Mark and she choked out a sob. "Oh my god."

"We need you to call Mark, Cynthia," Brass said calmly. "Try and reach out to him and remind him that he's your son and that he had a future. To let those people go and to come home with you."

Cynthia nodded shakily. "I'll try my best."

Back in the interrogation room. Russell's phone rang and he picked it up, showing the screen to Mark. But the kid seemed pre-occupied to really care.

"Yeah, go ahead, I don't care."

Russell answered it and put it on speaker. "Yeah Jim." He looked over at Greg who was barely holding it together. He hoped they had gotten something.

_"I'm assuming the young man is listening over the speaker?"_

Greg blinked his eyes open wider and listened to Jim's voice. Maybe it was going to be over soon.

"Yes, he is," Russell responded.

_"I have someone who wants to speak with him."_

_"Mark, sweetheart, it's me,"_ Cynthia sniffed.

Mark's face paled and froze in surprise before standing up. "M-Mom? What are you doing here?"

_"The police found me."_

"What? How?" He snapped and then he looked around, seeing the water bottle…with his fingerprint on it. He gazed up at the camera and back at the print…then realization hit him like a car.

_"It doesn't matter sweetheart. You need to let those people go. You gotta stop this. Mark!"_

Mark glared up at Russell. "You son of a bitch. You played me! You think I'm an idiot?"

"No, I don't Mark, I just think you need help, that's all."

Greg glanced between Russell and Mark; this was escalating too quickly. He trembled at the boy's shouts; his head and body was aching like hell and as much as he wanted to pass out right now, he knew he couldn't.

"Mark?" Russell said as the boy stood up straighter, towering over the two CSI's and his voice getting louder…angrier. He slapped the CSI's phone out of his hand, raising his gun. "You got my name, you found my mother, but you don't know who I am! But the world's gonna know, because you know why?!"

Greg started to panic. Mark was going to shoot Russell. He couldn't let that happen; it was better him, because he was dying anyways.

"Because it's over!" Mark shouted as he pulled the trigger.

"No!" Greg shouted.

Russell shut his eyes and waited for pain, but none came. He only felt a weight on his lap and something warm seep into his shirt. Opening his eyes, he swore softly. Greg had taken the bullet for him.

"Greg, dammit, what the hell did you do?" Greg seemed to sag against him, gasping weakly as Russell grabbed his shoulders and sat him up to see the damage. Blood was now blossoming from a stop on his stomach and his head was lolling on his shoulders. "Shit."

Mark raised the gun again, but this time shot out the camera.

Nick couldn't breathe. Greg just sacrificed himself for Russell. The kid just got shot again and bleeding from two wounds was sure to kill him a lot faster. Now they had no eyes in the room. Anything could happen and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Greg…bud, look at me," Russell said, cupping Greg's face in his hands. The kid's eyes were barely open and Russell could tell that he was trying his hardest to stay awake. He was gasping for air like a fish out of water and blood was spilling out of his mouth. "You're gonna be okay. Just hang on." He looked down at the second wound and shook his head; this one was bleeding faster.

He was in so much pain. Greg wanted to listen to his screaming body and succumb to the darkness but Russell wasn't letting him. He knew he was probably going to die soon, but he had to try and make it until the end.

"Mark," Russell said, propping Greg against the wall and stood up. "Don't do anything that we're all going to regret."

"I think we're way past that!" Mark shouted, pointing the gun at the older man.

"Actually no we're not, but we will be in about five seconds they're gonna come busting through that door and then we're all dead." He picked up his phone and showed it to Mark. "Unless you let me call them off."

Mark glanced nervously at the door and then back at Russell.

"What's it gonna be?"

The boy kept shifting his gaze to the CSI and the door before he gave and he dropped his arm. Russell let out a deep breath and called Brass.

"Jim, do you copy me?"

"What the hell's going on in there?" Brass said in a gruff voice.

Russell glanced at Mark and then Greg who was hardly conscious. "I'm okay but Greg…he's going south…fast. He was shot a second time…and he's dying. But Mark and I are working it out here. I'm gonna need a few minutes; I _will_ call you back." He hung up and pursed his lips. He just wanted this to be over, mostly for Greg's sake. The kid couldn't die here…or at all.

* * *

"We're not gonna wait this kid out!" Dolan shouted at Nick. He was getting impatient and angry. "He killed cops! He knows he's not walking out of here alive!"

"It sounds like you've already made the decision that _nobody_ is walking out of here alive." And that was definitely not going to happen. He was gonna get Greg out and to the hospital and then everything would be okay again. He couldn't risk making the wrong move and getting one of his colleagues killed. He poked Dolan in the chest. "You! You're the one making that decision!"

"Calm down!" Brass bellowed as Nick and Dolan argued. "Calm down! Calm down, that's an order!" When they did, Jim took a deep breath. "Dolan, my heart is with you, but my head is with Nick. Now Russell is in there and I'm gonna give him a chance to talk this kid out of there."

"We also need to give CSI a chance to work this case," Nick added. His heart beat painfully against his chest, knowing that Greg probably had less than an hour to live. As much as he liked Dolan's idea of shooting through the wall, it was too dangerous. "The better we know Powell, the better chances we have of getting Russell and Greg out of there alive." He would do whatever it took do make that happen.

Dolan huffed, looking down at the ground. "Fine."

Nearly ten minutes had passed since Greg was shot again and he was starting decline more than ever. He was extremely close to passing out, his eyes continuously rolling to the back of his head before Russell shook him lightly to keep him awake. He had started to shiver violently and now the blood was slowing down. One may think that was a good thing, but it wasn't…he had lost too much.

"Eye's open, bud. Eyes open," Russell whispered encouragingly, rubbing Greg's cold arm.

Greg breathed heavily and looked tiredly up at D.B. "M'gonna die, aren't I."

"No you're not, Greg. Don't think about that. I'm gonna get you out of here."

Greg coughed, spitting up more blood and groaning in pain.

"Here, I'll let you lay down, but no sleeping." He put more bandages over the wounds but they weren't really helping. Any longer and Greg was going to bleed to death.

"'Kay," Greg whispered and Russell carefully helped him lie down, resting his head on the man's lap. It just made him more tired, but he promised. Russell placed his hand on Greg's forehead and then looked up at Mark who kept staring at his phone and computer.

"Are you waiting for a message? Is there someone else out there, Mark? Someone who's gonna do the same thing you just did?"

"Shut up, man," Mark said quietly. "You don't know a damn thing."

Russell smirked. The kid was getting tired…more nervous and less confident. "You've changed."

"Shut up."

"You said you wanted to die today," D.B continued, "But something's different." He looked down at Greg who was blinking wearily. "I know a little something about the will to survive and I think I'm seeing that in you right now. You want to survive don't you?"

Mark just stared at him, not saying anything. Greg coughed again and Russell turned his head so he couldn't choke on his blood. "Breathe, Greg. Just take it easy. How are you doing?"

"C-Chest…feels…h-heavy," he panted.

"Alright, okay we're gonna take care of this. Mark, the bullet hit his lung…it's been filling up with blood. And who knows what else you hit when you shot him again."

"S-So? D-Do something," Mark trembled.

Greg rolled his head on Russell's lap and wheezed.

"I can't he needs a doctor…he needs a hospital."

Mark was speechless for a moment before yelling again. "I can't do that, man!"

"Greg is not a cop, _man_, neither am I! We're just crime scene investigators. We deal with science and technology. He's a good kid and he doesn't deserve to die! If he dies…you're screwed, because I will give SWAT the all clear and they'll come in with guns blazing. I don't care what my outcome will be, but you…you'll be dead in a second, I'll tell them to do whatever it takes. Let him go and _we_ can figure this out together, okay? I won't let you get killed if you just let him go."

The teen was quiet as he kept moving his eyes towards the door and biting on his necklace.

"Please," Russell said as he noticed Greg's body was relaxing.

"Okay."

Russell breathed a sigh of relief and called Brass to let in the paramedics. And the second they were in the door, Greg succumbed to the blood loss.

"Get up!" Mark yelled, pointing the gun at Russell and the older man complied, letting the gun be put against his head…and he didn't care. As long as Greg was okay.

"You're gonna be okay, Greg. Just keep fighting." He and Mark stood in the corner and Russell watched as the medics patched up and lifted Greg onto the gurney. Just as they strapped him in, Russell heard something he had been dreading ever since Greg had been shot the first time.

"BP is plummeting! No pulse!"

"Aw, geez Greg."

The medics rolled Greg out of the room and quickly down the hallway. The color in Nick's face drained as he saw his little brother, pale, covered and blood and unmoving…not even conscious.

"Greg!" He started to follow them, but Finn held him back.

"There's nothing you can do for him right now," she said sadly.

"I can be there for him!"

"We need you here," she said calmly. She knew the man was worried about Greg, they all were, but they had to finish this. "Sara's still at the hospital, so just call her and give her a heads up, okay?"

Nick wavered for a moment before running a hand through his hair and nodded. "Okay."

"He'll pull through. He's tough," Finn smiled warmly, rubbing his arm.

"Yeah," he chuckled weakly. "You're right." He just hoped that wasn't the last time he saw Greg alive.

~+CSI+~

Sara was sitting with Debra when she got off the phone with Nick. She apparently had missed a lot while she was here. Greg had been shot…twice. She didn't know how bad it actually was until she heard shouting and a gurney being wheeled down the hall. And Greg was on it, a medic straddling his waist as he performed CPR…which meant Greg's heart wasn't beating.

"Greg…oh god," she slapped her hand to her mouth, slowly moving towards the team of nurses and doctors that crowded around her friend. When they moved him to the operating bed, she could see him a lot better. He looked like shit. His face was transparent and his eyes appeared sunken; his shirt was soaked in blood and when they cut it off, she could see why. His entire torso was caked with the dark crimson blood and she could make out two holes, one near his chest and the other in his stomach. A tube was sticking out of his throat and she knew her best friend…someone she considered a brother, wasn't responding. He was dead. Tears ran down her throat as she watched them shock his heart with a defibrillator and she nearly broke down when nothing was changed after two tries.

"We're losing him!" The doctor shouted. "Get me an amp of inter-cardiac epi!"

A syringe was stabbed into Greg's heart and Sara finally heard Greg inhale eagerly and his heartbeat resume on the monitor.

"He's back, get him into surgery now! We can't afford to lose him again!"

"Yes doctor!" Greg's bed was unlocked and wheeled behind the double doors, out of sight, leaving Sara trembling and sick. Greg had died…and if he died again, they might not be able to get him back. The brunette closed her eyes and prayed. Greg couldn't leave them. He was and always would be the light of the lab. And not to mention Nick would be devastated; the two were like brothers. _Please Greg…don't leave us._

~+C+~

Greg had been in pretty rough shape and the doctors had been skeptical how long he would hold on. His surgery had lasted three hours and by then, Nick, Russell, Morgan and Finn had shown up after finally getting out of the hostage situation. At first they had traced emails from Dolan and Nick nearly beat the man to a pulp for putting everyone in danger and that his best friend was dying because of him. But then they found out he had been framed and _Debra_ had been the one behind it all. Sara had shown her the evidence and given her a piece of her mind before having two officers arrest her. It made her sick that one of their own could turn on them all. No one hurts family.

The doctor had come out and told them the injuries and Nick was speechless; two gunshot wounds, one to the lower chest hitting a lung and the other in his stomach, tearing his large intestine and obtaining a slight case of sepsis. Luckily enough, they were able to treat it before it became too life-threatening. He also went into hypovolemic shock from the three and a half pints of blood that he lost which is why his heart stopped. He was dead for a total of five minutes, crashing in the ambulance and then once on the operating table. Nick nearly collapsed at this information; he had been too close to losing his little brother. Greg was also gonna have to be on a ventilator until he got stronger and his 104 degrees fever went down. He wasn't in a coma, but the doctors weren't sure when Greg would wake up…it was all up to him.

**Three and a Half Days Later**

His body ached…his chest felt tight and his mind was fuzzy. He could really remember what exactly happened; all his memories faded in and out. A kid had shot up the lab, he got shot, Mark got really pissed at Russell, then he got shot again and that was it. Everything else was blank. With all the energy he could muster, Greg peeled open his eyes and looked around. He was in the hospital…made sense. He felt gross and sweaty and he swallowed tersely before looking to his right to see Russell sitting next to him, reading a book.

"S'it over?" He mumbled, his throat scratchy.

D.B's head snapped up and he smiled, putting down the book. "Yeah, buddy. It's over."

Greg sighed and smiled weakly. He tried to take a deep breath but a sharp pain shot through his chest and he winced. "W-What happened…to M-Mark?"

Russell faltered before speaking. "He's dead."

Greg's seemed a little upset as he looked up at the ceiling. He kind of felt bad even though Mark had been the one to do this. "How?"

"He was surrendering and it was going finne until he reached for what everyone thought was a gun," Russell said, leaning forward and clasping his hands together.

"But it wasn't," Greg stated.

"No. It was his St. Christopher's necklace. I'm thinking he did it on purpose."

Greg sighed sadly. "I kinda feel bad for him."

Russell smirked. "Well it's over now. You're alive and that's what matters."

Greg looked around the room. "Where's everybody else?"

"The cafeteria. You've been out for three days, kiddo. Nick wouldn't leave your side for two until Sara convinced him. He's like an over-protective brother."

Greg chuckled. "_Really_ over-protective. He didn't even want me to be the one to give you the microphone in the first place."

"I couldn't blame him though, he was worried about you…we all were. We almost lost you twice."

"Can't get rid of me that easy," he joked tiredly.

Russell grinned before sobering up. "Listen, Greg, I want to apologize for getting you into this mess. I shouldn't have said yes to switching had I known Mark was gonna shoot you."

"Not your fault…I wasn't going to let Jacob die. Better a CSI than a civilian."

"Better no one at all," Russell replied. "But I'm proud of you…for what you did. However, I'm not worth sacrificing yourself for. It was a stupid move…getting in the line of fire like that."

Greg looked at D.B sadly. "I'm sorry. I wasn't really thinking when I did it…I just did it."

"Well don't do it again," Russell laughed lightly. "What would we do without you?"

"Trust me, I don't plan on it. Getting shot sucks."

"I bet. I'm just glad you're okay now."

Greg smiled but it disappeared when the pain intensified. Russell immediately picked up on the blonde's discomfort and frowned.

"You doing alright buddy?"

Greg started breathing heavily and sweat perspired on his forehead. "Th-Think…the morphine…is s-starting to…wear off."

"Bet that doesn't feel good," Russell stood up. "I'll go get a nurse to give you some more, okay?"

Greg forced a smiled past the pain. "Thanks, D.B."

"You're welcome," the white haired man smiled as he headed for the door and when he reached the entrance he smirked and turned around. "Looks like you're getting some more company."

Greg frowned but when Nick and the others came flooding in, he grinned, pushing past the immense pain he was in.

"Greggo! You're awake!" Nick said happily, putting down the coffee and going over to Greg, scooping him up in a bear hug. "I'm so glad you're okay, bud." He squeezed a little tighter, forgetting about the wounds for a moment. He was just glad that his little brother was alive…his eyes were open, he was talking and he was no longer dying. He proved the doctors wrong.

"O-Ow," Greg gasped, squeezing is eyes shut.

"Oh shit, sorry, man, sorry. Did I hurt you?" Nick said guiltily and pulling away sharply. He couldn't stand the thought of hurting his best friend.

Greg smiled shakily. "It's…fine. M'okay. The pain meds are s-starting to come off. Russell's…g-getting a nurse."

"Good." Nick relaxed before moving out of the way to let the girls hug Greg, but not removing his hand from the kid's shoulder.

"Don't ever scare us like that again," Sara said, embracing Greg gently, kissing him on the cheek. The man still looked a sickly pale and dark shadows underlined his eyes, but he seemed a lot better now that he wasn't covered in blood. It was a memory she wanted to get out of her mind forever.

"Yeah, you had us so worried," Morgan grinned, hugging Greg and then letting Finn do the same. "What would we do without you?"

They all started talking when a nurse came in, a syringe in her hands. "I was told you needed some more morphine?" She said sweetly. "Looks like the fever is climbing again. I'll get some more antibiotics, but first to get rid of the pain, okay?" She flicked the end of the needle before injecting the meds into Greg's I.V.

"Thank you," Greg smiled at her, sagging into the pillows, the pain slowly ebbing away. He looked over at the group, seeing D.B had rejoined them. "Not gonna be very talkative soon," he yawned.

"That's okay, Greg," Sara chuckled. "You need your rest."

"Hmm," he mumbled, his eyes drooping close and his breathing evening out.

"Alright guys," Russell said. "Let's let him sleep." The girls herded out, but Nick stayed. "I'm guessing you aren't going anywhere?"

"Nope. I…I have to get those images of him getting shot…dying…everything out of my head. I'm just…I should've done more to stop him or at least volunteer myself to bring those bags instead of him."

D.B sighed. "Greg's not gonna blame you for it and you now that. It's all in the past now, kid. You can relax."

"Yeah." The man was right. Greg was alive there was nothing else to worry about.

"I'll be at the lab if you need anything."

"Thanks."

Once Russell left, Nick let out a deep breath and wiped his face with both hands, staring at his slumbering little brother. He had honestly been scared that he'd lose the kid and then he would've been a failure as a big brother. But he wouldn't let something like this happen again.

"If you ever do that again, Greggo, I'll kill you." He grabbed the blonde's hand and squeezed it tightly. Greg's hand suddenly curled faintly, squeezing back until it went slack once more.

Nick smirked before leaning back in his chair and finally let himself sleep for the first time in a week. Things could finally return to normal.

* * *

**FIN!**

**Next prompt is for:****_Lighting'sHalo_**

**_Bluejay141519_**

**_Doodlelidooo_**

**_Guest (1)_**

**_Marymel_**

**_Anonymous (1)_**

**_Marymel_**

**_CamilaAlgo_**

**_feelingsplosion_**

**_Meggysmeg_**

**_SandieBrody_**

**_Anonymous (2)_**

**_Guest (2)_**

**_Ashley_**

**_Srta McLean_**


	5. Buried

**Buried**

_**Prompt for: Lightening's Halo**_

**Enjoy!**

"Wow, this place is amazing," Morgan whispered in awe. "Too bad we're not here under better circumstances." She, Greg and Nick were sent to a crime scene in the famous Cave in the Hills. It was a huge tourist attraction; she had seen pictures and heard stories and she always wanted to go. She just thought she'd be staring at the view and caves instead of a dead, decomposing body a climber had come across. And it was definitely murder.

"Maybe we can come up here again sometime," Greg smirked, bumping her shoulder.

Morgan smiled back, her eyes twinkling. She and Greg had been secretly dating for a week and half and she was loving every moment of it. She wished he had asked her out sooner.

"Thanks, but no," she chuckled. "All I'm gonna think about is how a rotting corpse was lying in there."

Greg laughed. "True." He looked to his right as Nick came up to them after finishing talking with the officer.

"Alright," the Texan said, adjusting his sunglasses. "The body is a couple feet in the cave; you two go process him, I'll take the perimeter and see if the killer left any tracks."

"Sounds good," Greg nodded as he and Morgan walked into the cave, cameras hanging off their necks.

"Hello!" Greg shouted and his voice echoed and Morgan giggled. "This is so cool," Greg said before looking at their dead body in disgust as the rotting smell wafted into his nose. "If it weren't for him, it would actually be enjoyable."

Morgan squatted down next to the man, known as Wyatt Mills, to get a closer look. "Hey, it's not his fault he got murdered," she joked before snapping a picture.

After Greg took a couple pictures, he stared Morgan with a grin. He was so lucky to have her. He finally had the courage to ask her out and hasn't regretted it since; she was beyond amazing. And not to mention beautiful and hot. Her blonde hair fell over her face and he watched as she tucked a strand behind her ear.

"What?" She looked up with a lopsided smile and Greg hadn't realized she had caught him staring.

"Nothing," he chuckled before taking more pictures. "You know…this is a great place to make-out."

Morgan rolled her eyes, trying to suppress a grin. "We're working, Greg."

The man shrugged with an innocent look on his face. "So?"

Morgan stood up, putting her hands on her hips. "And Nick or Ackers could walk in at any second."

Greg laughed and shrugged again. "So?"

Morgan smirked and put down her camera, Greg doing the same, before walking over to older CSI. "You're a rebel." They both looked out the entrance of the cave to make sure no one was around before they locked lips. They knew it was probably something they shouldn't be doing at a crime scene, especially in front of a dead body, but she couldn't hold herself back. Greg was becoming a risk taker and she kinda liked that. Before they got passionate, though, the two pulled away after hearing a noise. At first they thought it was Nick, but then realized it had come from further inside the cave. Morgan and Greg shared a look before both taking out their guns and cautiously started to walk further into the cave. Maybe the killer was still there, which would be a good and bad thing.

"LVPD!" Greg shouted, holding his gun tightly. "Is anyone in here?"

They walked down further until the entrance of the cave disappeared and only a small light shone from around the corner. They could see a faint trail of blood and knew that the victim had probably been attacked in here.

"Greg, maybe we should wait for backup," Morgan whispered. Something didn't feel right.

Greg was about to agree and turn back when a short, scruffy man wearing a black hoodie, came out of nowhere with a gleaming silver knife in his hand. Before Greg had time to react, the man hit him on the side of the head with a rock and stabbed him twice in the stomach.

"Ah!" Greg doubled over, clutching the stomach as pain spread through his entire body.

"Greg!" Morgan shouted and was about to fire her gun, but the man barreled into her, knocking the it out of her grip. She felt the knife slice her arm and she hissed in pain. By the time she got to her gun that had slid across the dirt, their attacker had already rounded the corner and out of sight. She had to warn Nick. She had been so preoccupied with going to Greg that the blonde didn't see the red, sparkling stick that suddenly appeared in their attacker's hand. A dynamite.

"Nick! Look out!" She ran over to Greg who was now on his side in a fetal position, arms wrapped around his stomach. "Greg! Oh my god. Greg?" She cupped his already paling face and tears made her way down her cheeks when she saw how much pain he was in. She unzipped his jacket and gasped; blood bloomed through his button-up in two different places before they met, creating one big spot. "Shit."

Nick was outside, taking pictures of some footprints that went behind the cave when he heard a gunshot go off. He dropped what he was doing and ran back towards the entrance, gun up in front of him.

"Morgan? Greg?! Are you okay!?"

"_Nick look out!"_ Morgan's voice echoed from the cave. All of a sudden, a man came rushing out followed by a ground trembling explosion, nearly knocking the Texan off his feet. "What the hell? Hey! Stop!" He shouted, running after the man.

But the guy in the hoodie didn't stop…and there was a bloody knife clutched in his hand. Nick felt cold…whose blood could that be? It made him feel sick, thinking that it could be one of his friend's blood. "Stop!"

The man stopped and turned, giving him a smirk…and Nick knew. "Ackers! Grab that guy!" He didn't have time to deal with him…Greg and Morgan were in trouble. But by the time he had managed to reach the cave and everything had gone still, the rocks blocked the tunnel halfway. "Dammit! Greg!" He bellowed, hoping his voice carried past the wall off rocks. "Morgan!" But there was no reply. He tried calling her, but it went straight to voicemail. Not good. "Fuck." He ran his fingers through the spikes in his hair before running back to see Ackers kicking the knife out of the unmoving attacker's hand. At least that was one less thing to worry about.

"Ackers! Call for backup and paramedics. Morgan and Greg are trapped in the cave and I'm pretty sure one of them is injured." And hopefully not dead.

"On it." The officer headed back to the squad car.

Nick swore softly as he washed a hand down his face, his heart thudding against his chest. One of his friends were injured and he had a bad feeling that it might be Greg. _Please, be okay._

~+CSI+~

Morgan groaned as she blinked open her eyes, her head pounding furiously. It felt like someone hit her with a rock…wait, rocks. She was at a crime scene…trapped in a cave…with Greg. Greg!

"M-Morgan? You…you okay?"

The blonde sat up and peered through the dim light to see Greg staring at her worriedly, sitting up against the wall. With what she could see, his face was a grayish tint and a mask of pain. And then she remembered that he had gotten stabbed.

"Greg…I'm fine. Just my head. And I think that asshole cut my arm."

The man smiled weakly before grimacing.

"How bad is it?" Morgan said, moving over to him. It was dark so it was hard to see the crimson blood staining Greg's shirt, but when she touched his hand, it was wet and sticky. "Oh, Greg."

"It's f-fine. I'm good. It looks worse than it is," he hissed, trying to sit up straighter. He had to be strong for Morgan. He was in so much goddamn pain, but he couldn't show it; the wound _was_ as bad as it looked, but he couldn't tell her that. They had enough things to worry about.

"I know when you're lying to me, Greg. Plus your shirt is soaked."

"That's just sweat," he chuckled nervously, putting pressure on the wounds.

"Greg, stop," Morgan said, cupping his sweat slicked face and getting him to look her in the eyes. He's was wheezing really badly and she knew the knife had most likely hit a lung. "You're gonna be okay. _We're_ gonna be okay. We're gonna get out of here and then get you to a hospital. Don't worry." Even though she was scared as hell she had to be brave. If they didn't get help soon, Greg was going to bleed out.

"I'm not worried," he grinned faintly. "I got you here."

Morgan rolled her eyes. "Always a joker." She ran her fingers through his blonde curls and he hummed, leaning towards her touch. He coughed violently and Morgan helped him sit up, rubbing his back as he tried to breathe. When he was finished, he licked his lips and tasted blood. He glanced over to Morgan, hoping that she hadn't noticed. She didn't need to worry about him. She had to get out of here…because he probably wasn't going to get out of this alive.

"You okay?"

"Y-Yeah," he said breathlessly.

"Alright." The woman grabbed the top of her sleeve, tearing it off her shirt and bunched it up against one of the wounds, doing the same for the other. "That should hold for a little bit. I'm gonna see if I can move some of the rocks and get some air in here." The oxygen was already getting low, and for Greg, that definitely wasn't good. Morgan stood up, blinking a couple times to focus her doubling vision and then went over to the huge pile of rocks. "Great." It looked really packed.

"Nick!? Nick! Hello?!" She pulled out her phone and cursed, seeing that there were no bars. "Just great."

Greg coughed again. "H-How…how far do you think we're in?"

"No idea," Morgan sighed before shouting again. "Nick!"

"Morgan!" A familiar Texan voice yelled back. "Thank god; you guys okay?"

"I'm fine…but Greg. The guy stabbed him twice. He's bleeding a lot."

"Dammit."

"How long is it gonna take to get us out?"

"Hard to say. Rescue's gonna be here in ten minutes. If we can hear each other, the wall might not be too thick."

Morgan pursed her lips and turned to Greg who was resting his head back and eyes closed. "Greg!" The man jerked and looked around in confusion. "You can't sleep."

"Sorry."

"Nick, you need to hurry, because…"

She didn't have to finish her sentence, because Nick knew Greg was badly injured and didn't have a lot of time. "I know. Just hang on you guys. Greg?"

Greg lifted his head and cleared his throat. "Y-Yeah."

Nick sighed inwardly. The kid's voice was already so weak. "Don't die on me, bud. We still have those tickets to the football game on Saturday and I need someone that understands my competitiveness."

Greg chuckled. "I'll be okay. Someone's g-gotta collect the cash when…when your team loses."

Nick laughed. At least Greg still had his sense of humor. "Whatever. I'll be back, alright?"

"Yeah," Morgan sighed and listened to Nick's footsteps fading away before walking back over to Greg and sitting down. She coughed into her arm, the dust and low oxygen making it difficult to breathe normally. "How are you doing?"

"B-Been better," he panted.

Morgan smiled sadly and grabbed his bloody hand, squeezing it gently.

"Are you…okay?"

The woman frowned. "You're the one bleeding out and you're asking if _I'm_ okay?"

Greg just gave her a look with his big brown eyes and Morgan smirked. "Yes, I'm okay."

Greg sighed in relief and looked around. "This is kinda romantic, you know," he rasped. "I mean, if I wasn't bleeding to death."

Morgan laid her head on Greg's shoulder and prayed she wouldn't be losing the love of her life today. "Well, maybe we can come back up here sometime."

"Nah…you were right. All I'll think about is that body…if I even…m-make it out of here."

"You're not gonna die, Greg," Morgan said sternly. "I'm not gonna let you."

"C-Can't get away…f-from you that easily, huh."

Morgan squeezed his hand again. "Nope."

Greg shook his head and sighed as they sat in silence for a moment. Ten minutes had passed and Morgan could tell Greg was getting worse. She knew he was trying to hide his pain, but it wasn't hard to see how bad it was. The makeshift bandages that she had made were already soaked and weren't providing much help. His breathing was shallow and erratic and she could feel heat radiating off his body. They really needed to get out of here.

"G-Guess I should…should've w-wore my…my vest t-today," Greg huffed. "Instead…Instead of my jacket."

"Probably would've been safer," Morgan grunted as she stood up to go back to the wall of rocks. "What is taking them so long?"

Right on cue, she heard voices and footsteps approaching and she instantly felt relieved. "Nick? Are you there?"

"Yeah! Rescue finally came; how you guys holding up?"

Morgan glanced over her shoulder and could tell Greg was barely lucid. "Not good."

"We'll have you out in half an hour!" Another voice said and she assumed it was one of the firefighters.

Morgan cursed inwardly. Greg might not have that long. It had already been one hour since he was attacked and there was so much blood that it was staining the top part of his pants.

"Just please hurry," she urged. "I don't know how much longer he has." She barely heard Nick's reply when Greg moaned and leaned over to the side, throwing up. Morgan ran over and fell to her knees, rubbing his back until he was finished. Greg coughed violently, wiping a shaky hand across his mouth.

"Easy, baby. Take it easy. You're okay."

He was so weak…he could feel his body slowly shutting down and as hard as he tried to be strong for Morgan, he was losing the battle. "It h-hurts…m'so c-cold."

Morgan cupped his neck, stroking it with her thumb. "I know…please just keep fighting. I can't lose you." Tears ran down her face, her head pounding but trying to focus more on Greg. "Please." She sat down next to him, trying to calm the man down. Morgan wrapped her arm around Greg's shoulder, rubbing his arm. "We're gonna be okay. Just breathe."

Greg closed his eyes, resting his head on Morgan's shoulder, trying to get his breathing back to normal. Morgan sniffed as she tried to hold it together. "Greg I…I love you so much. We've only been dating for a week, but it's felt like months. Truth is…I've had a crush on you for a while, I was just afraid what would happen…I mean, I didn't think you'd felt the same."

Greg shifted and sat up stiffly with a hiss before looking at Morgan. "A-Are you kidding me? I-I've loved you since…since the day I met you. When N-Nick introduced us…I k-knew you…you were the one…_Hollywood_."

Morgan laughed. "You haven't called me that in ages."

Greg grinned but the smile disappeared when another wave of agony shot through him. He shivered and Morgan held him tightly before deciding he might be more comfortable lying down.

"Here, lie down." She helped him onto his back, setting his head in her lap. She looked down at his torso, the blood coating his entire shirt now and his breathing uneven and weak. He was really dying. She couldn't believe it; just when they had gotten together…now she was going to lose him. Why didn't she say something sooner? "Oh god." She began crying.

"Hey…Hey, don't cry, M." Greg lifted his arm weakly and wiped the tears off her face.

Morgan sniffed and tried to smile, placing her hand over Greg's before his arm dropped back to his side. He was in so much pain and he wanted to let go, but he knew he shouldn't. He couldn't leave Morgan by herself. In here and in the world. He knew he should've asked her out earlier…they would have had so much more time together. A week was not enough. He smiled faintly…even with dirt and blood on her face, hair astray and tears trickling down her cheeks, she still looked so beautiful to him. He didn't want to die, but it was so damn hard to fight. It felt like he had lost his entire blood supply already. His eyes grew heavy and the image of Morgan began to fade.

"M'sorry, M," he whispered, his breath shuddering. He grabbed her hand, interlocking fingers.

Morgan choked, tightening her grip. She could hear the rocks shifting from the wall barricading them in. "No Greg…please just hang on a little longer. We're almost out of here."

He smiled at her again…his trademark lopsided smile she loved so much. Blood was staining his usually white teeth and dripping down the corner of his mouth. His eyes were slowly closing and before she knew it, his weak grip went limp and his head rolled to the side, his chest unmoving.

"Greg?" She cradled his head, willing his eyes to open…willing him to take a breath. "Greg, please."

"Morgan! Can you hear me?" Nick shouted.

"Nick, hurry! He's not breathing!"

"Shit. Speed it up you guys!"

In a couple more minutes, an opening was made and Greg was taken from her grasp as much as she tried to resist.

"Morgan, let go!" Nick said, holding her back. "He's in good hands."

Morgan sobbed, her head spinning wildly. When she got outside, the light was nearly blinding but all she could focus on was Greg lying motionlessly on the ground while being given CPR.

"Greg!"

Nick let go of her but she before she could walk a couple feet, she collapsed, succumbing to the concussion and the adrenaline wearing off. And her last thought was of never seeing Greg alive again.

~+CSI+~

When Morgan woke up, she immediately asked for Greg and Nick had to give her the bad news. She burst out crying when he told her what he told her. Greg was in a coma. When they had got them out, he wasn't breathing and his heart had stopped for five minutes. They wouldn't be sure if there would be any brain damage due to the lack of oxygen until he woke up…if he woke up. The massive blood loss also did a lot of damage to his organs, putting him into hypovolemic shock. He looked horrible; the knock to his head by the rock gave him a rather large lump and a nasty bruise on his temple, vivid on his colorless face. His spleen had been hit and they had to remove that and his stomach had been punctured as well, which caused a pretty bad case of sepsis. The infection was probably the worst; his temperature was 104 degrees and climbing and if it passed 105, they would have to put him in an ice bath. The only thing Greg didn't need, surprisingly, was a ventilator, just an oxygen mask. He was holding on his own…for now.

Morgan sat with him the entire weekend, until she had to go back to work, and then she stayed with him every morning after her shift. And she did this for five days, but Greg still hadn't budged.

"Greg please," she whispered, smoothing his damp, blonde hair back. He still had a high fever, but it was gradually going down. She was just thankful it wasn't getting worse. "I need you. Please wake up…for me. I love you." She grasped his hand with both of hers, staring at his pale face, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I love you so much. I don't want to lose you." She listened to his raspy breathing and placed her hand on his bare chest, feeling his heart beat. "Greg-"

"Morgan?"

She turned her head to see Nick standing in the doorway, a sad smile on his face. He too hadn't stayed away from the hospital long, wanting to be there when his little brother woke up. She could tell he was slowly dying on the inside as well.

"Hey," she forced a weak smile before turning back to Greg. "You know," she chuckled. "I didn't think he could grow facial hair."

Nick went over and sure enough a stubble was beginning to show on Greg's face. He laughed. It was true, he had never seen any hair on Greg's face before.

"Morgan, why don't you go home, get some rest. I'll sit with him today."

"Nick, I-"

"I know you love him. I know you two have been dating. You guys are horrible at keeping things secret."

Morgan looked appalled. How the hell did he know?

"I'm a CSI, Morgan," Nick grinned, taking a seat next to the bed. "I know a relationship when I see one. I've seen the way you guys look at each other sometimes. And he seems a lot happier. I'm glad for you guys, it's about time you got together."

Morgan blushed, looking down at her hands. No use hiding it now.

"How long?" Nick spoke.

"A week…he asked me out, took me to this amazing dinner that must've cost a fortune and then he brought me to the carnival that's in town."

"He knows you're the one."

"Yeah," Morgan smiled, remembering that night. It was one she'd never forget.

"Seriously, M. Go home and get some rest, okay? I'll call you if anything changes."

The blonde hesitated before sighing. "Alright. I'll see you later."

Nick nodded and watched as Morgan kissed Greg on the forehead before leaving to go home. When she was gone, Nick took a deep breath and sat forward, resting his hand on top of Greg's cold one.

"Come on man, you're killing us here. You gotta wake up now."

Silence.

Nick pursed his lips. "I sold those tickets. I wasn't gonna go without you, because I know how excited you were for it. I promise, when you wake up, though, I'll buy some more and we can go another time. Just try not to get hurt again." He sat back in his chair. "I miss hanging out with you Greg. Seems like we haven't done much since Warrick died, but I'm gonna change that, alright? And I know about you and Morgan so you don't have to hide it from me anymore. Just don't forget about your big brother, okay?" He stroked Greg's knuckles before leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. He hadn't slept much either, having nightmares of being too late when they got Greg out and going to, yet, another funeral. He couldn't deal with that. Not again. He slowly dozed off, hoping that the next time he opened his eyes, Greg would be back with them.

~+C+~

It seemed like barely half an hour when Nick woke up. He could sense that something had changed. Fearing that something was wrong with Greg, his eyes snapped open and went to Greg's bed.

"Greg?"

It was the moment they had all been waiting for, for almost a week. Greg was finally waking up. His eyes were rolling around underneath his eyelids and his forehead was scrunched up in confusion. Sweat still coated his forehead and his temperature still wasn't good, but at least he was regaining consciousness.

"Greg. Wake up, buddy. You're okay now, you're safe."

"M-Mor…gan," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the oxygen mask.

"She's safe, too, man. Just worried about you. We all are. Open your eyes."

It took a moment, but the blonde finally managed to crack his eyelids open and Nick smiled when he saw the feverish, familiar brown orbs. Greg looked around tiredly, before becoming agitated and trying to sit up.

"Whoa, whoa, hang on there, tiger. Relax, you're alright."

"Nick? Where a-am…I?" He gasped, taking off the mask.

"The hospital. Now put that back on. You're already having a hard time breathing."

"But…M-Morgan-"

"I told you she was safe. I sent her home. Greg, you've been in a coma for almost a week."

"What? I-I have?"

"Yeah…you scared the shit out of us man. Now please put that back on."

Greg sunk back into the pillows, putting the mask on his face. He was shocked; he could barely remember what happened. He was at a crime scene with Nick and Morgan and all he could recall was a white-hot pain, trapped somewhere dark with Morgan and then nothing.

"Do you remember what happened? You were trapped in a cave. Whoever murdered the guy at our crime scene was hiding in there. He stabbed you and then blew up the place causing a collapse. I thought you guys were…anyways, I'm really happy you're alright, G."

Greg's mouth twisted into a weak smile before his eyes started closing. He was exhausted and he hadn't even been awake for three minutes.

"Get some rest, bud," Nick grinned, squeezing his hand lightly.

He didn't need to be told twice.

When Greg woke again, he could start to feel the full effect of his injuries, his stomach aching and his right abdomen burning. And not just that, but his entire body felt completely stiff and his head was pounding. He tried to hold back a groan, but it slipped past his lips.

"Greg?"

That voice. That beautiful voice; it sounded so familiar…why did it sound familiar?

"Greg, please wake up."

Morgan? Morgan! He needed to see if she was okay! Greg pried his eyes open, blinking a few times before his vision finally focused. He looked to his right to see Morgan sitting in a chair, resting her arms on his bed and grasping his hand.

"M-Morgan."

A bright smile spread across her lips and she held his hand tightly. "Hey, baby. How are you doing?"

"Sore…head hurts. Y-You 'kay?"

"I'm fine…you just really scared me." Tears dripped out of her eyes as she softly began to cry.

"Hey…don't cry. No crying, Hollywood," Greg said, clearing his throat while lifting up his hand and cupping her face. He wiped the tears with his thumb and smiled. "I'm okay now."

"I thought I was going to lose you," she sniffed, grabbing his fingers. "Y-You died in my arms, Greg. Please…don't ever do that to me again."

"I'm sorry…I promise I won't. I won't leave you."

Morgan smiled. "Good." She leaned over and kissed him on the lips before he moved over for her to lie down. She rest her head on his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat. "I love you, Greg. In that cave, when we were trapped, I realized how much you meant to me…even if we hadn't even been dating a month. I-"

He couldn't hold back any more. He had almost died and it dawned on him that life is short. He needed to get a move on; he was nearly thirty years old and he wasn't getting any younger. "Morgan, will you marry me?"

Her head lifted from his chest and she looked at him with a frown. "W-What?"

"Marry me," he repeated.

"G-Greg-"

"I love you so much it hurts sometimes. Every day I see you, you looked more beautiful than the day before. I was so nervous to ask you out, fearing that you didn't feel the same way. And when I was dying, I hated myself for waiting that long and prayed that I got a second chance…and I did. I know…I know this is probably not the best place to propose and the ring…I bought it after our first date, but it's at-"

Before he could finish, Morgan planted her lips on his for at least five seconds and then pulled away, a huge grin on her face and happy tears in her eyes. Everything that he had said…no one had said anything like that to her. And she knew he was the right guy. "Of course, I'll marry you."

Greg looked at her with wide eyes. "R-Really?"

Morgan nodded with a laugh. "A million times yes."

Greg smiled broadly bringing her into a tight embrace. This was the best day of his life and he wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world.

**FIN!**

**Kind of a boring ending, but I hope you enjoyed the story!**

**Next Prompt: ****_Bluejay141519_**

**_Doodlelidooo_**

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**_Marymel_**

**_Anonymous (1)_**

**_Marymel_**

**_CamilaAlgo_**

**_feelingsplosion_**

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**_SandieBrody_**

**_Anonymous (2)_**

**_Guest (2)_**

**_Ashley_**

**_Srta McLean_**


	6. Electric Shock

**Electric Shock**

**Prompt for: Bluejay141519**

"We've located Rick Barnes," Brass said, coming into the light room where Nick, Greg, Warrick and Catherine were in. "His truck was spotted parked near the junk yard on Jefferson."

"You think he's hiding out in there?" Catherine questioned.

"Well, the junk yard owner said he locked up but he got an alert saying someone had broken in. When he saw the truck we had on the BOLO, he called us."

"The bastard finally slipped up," Warrick sneered.

"Alright, Warrick and I will take one car; Nick, you take Greg."

The Texan inwardly groaned as they all left the room. Don't get him wrong, he loved Greg like a brother, but the kid was a newbie and that basically meant babysitting him on things like this. And he _hated_ babysitting. How was he supposed to catch a murderer when he had to make sure Greg wouldn't screw up?

Greg, on the other hand, was so excited. It was his first bust since he became a CSI and he couldn't wait to finally be in on the action. And now that he was placed with Nick, his best friend, he could watch the guy and learn more. When they got outside, it was pouring rain, so loud they could barely hear each other's voice without shouting.

"Nicky!" Catherine shouted. "You and Greg take the back entrance, we'll take the front!"

"Okay!" They all got into their Denali's and put on the sirens, headed for the junk yard.

Nick looked over at Greg and rolled his eyes. "Would you stop?"

The smile fell from Greg's face and he frowned, looking over at the Texan. "Stop what?"

"Stop bouncing around. You need to focus, Greg. This isn't a blood analysis that you're so used to doing. This is real stuff, man. You can't screw this up."

That was a blow to the chest. "Why would I screw it up? I know my training."

"I know, but just…this is a serious gig. Don't goof around. I can't be babysitting you when there are more pressing things we have to deal with."

"Who said you had to babysit me?" Greg snapped. He sure as hell _did not_ want to be babysat. He was capable of doing things on his own; why couldn't anybody believe that?

"Just…sometimes you tend to mess around. You can't do that here or in the field period."

"You think I don't know that? I'm not an idiot, Nick."

"I didn't say that, Greg-"

"You didn't have to. It's pretty clear that you don't trust me."

"Greg, I didn't mean it like that."

"Sure," Greg said in a low voice, crossing his arms and looking out the window.

_Dammit._ Nick slapped himself inwardly. He had put the kid down…he was gonna have to apologize after this. _Way to be a good friend, Stokes._ The rest of the drive was quiet, except for the pattering rain. Nick kept looking at Greg guiltily, but the man continued to keep his gaze out the passenger window. When they finally reached the junk yard, Nick stopped in front of the back entrance, shutting off the engine.

"Stay here," Nick said, grabbing his gun and unbuckling the seat belt.

"What? No."

"Greg, I mean it. Like I said, you're new at this."

"And I won't get any better if you keep me from doing things!"

"Don't argue. Stay in the car, we'll handle this."

"You know, I get that you're not happy for me being a CSI, because I might "steal your spotlight" but you could at least come right out and say it."

"Greg, that's _definitely_ not it."

"Oh yeah? Then what is it, huh? I thought we were friends."

"Greg." Nick wasn't going to tell Greg the real reason he wanted him out of the chase. It was for his protection. He, personally, was glad Greg had become a CSI, but now that he was, he wasn't as safe as he used to be when in the lab. And he would never forgive himself if Greg got hurt in the field. They were brothers and were supposed to look out for each other. And he couldn't do that if Greg was out of his sight. "Just…stay in the car. We can talk about it later."

Greg rolled his eyes and grumbled, glaring straight ahead. "Whatever."

Nick pursed his lips before opening the door and heading out into the storm. When Nick was gone, Greg sagged into the seat. It was cold and quiet, the rain being the only noise. He looked up into the sky when he heard thunder and saw a flash of lightening. Greg sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. Why couldn't Nick trust him? He thought they were friends…or brothers. Apparently he was wrong. Just as he was about to put on some music, he saw a man, which looked a lot like Barnes, run past the car…and no one was chasing after him. Which meant the others had no idea where the guy was. Greg bit his lip…as pissed as he was at Nick, he did know how to follow orders. But the guy was going to get away if he didn't do anything. Orders be damned; he wasn't gonna become a good CSI just sitting in the car all the time. Greg unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door, the wind nearly blowing him back. Reluctantly, he grabbed his gun; he hated the thing, but he knew he might need it…he just prayed he wouldn't actually have to shoot it. He started running in the direction Barnes had gone, already soaked to the bone and nearly impossible to see from the water in his eyes. He shook his hair out of his face and raised his gun as he jogged through the yard, trying to see where their suspect went. His shoes, along with the rest of his body were soaked and the puddles on the pavement were nearly flooding the paths. Just when he was about to give up, he saw Barnes a little ways ahead of him.

"Rick Barnes! LVPD!"

The man turned around quickly, startled that someone had actually found him.

"Hands in the air, Barnes!"

Rick was about to comply, when a bolt of lightning struck…hitting the puddle Greg was standing in. Electricity shot through Greg's body before throwing him backwards into a pile of garbage, unconscious.

A couple seconds later, Nick rounded the corner to see Rick on the ground, looking confused. The Texan frowned, wondering what happened, but didn't waste any more time and ran over, putting him in cuffs.

"Rick Barnes!" He shouted over the rain. "You're under arrest for the murder of Cathy Williams and Robert Mason!"

The man grumbled, giving into the cuffs. "By the way, you might wanna check on your friend over there. I think he was electrocuted; a lightning bolt came out of nowhere and knocked us both off our feet."

Nick frowned. _He?_ Had Warrick or Brass beat him here and got themselves hurt? Surely, it had to be him, because he told Greg to stay in the car. But when he saw the captain and two CSI's come up behind him, dread poured into his body, weighing his heart down. _No._ Nick passed Barnes over to Brass before rushing over to a pile of trash…and sure enough, Greg was there. Unmoving. "Oh god. Greg!" The kid was soaked to the bone, of course, his face sheet white and red, angry burns on his neck and arms and who knows where else. "Greggo!" He patted the man's face before his fingers went to his neck…no pulse. Greg's heart wasn't beating. "No…no, no, no." He picked the younger man out of the trash, one hand underneath his knees and another around his back. "Call 911!" He shouted. He laid Greg gently on the ground as Catherine and Warrick rushed over to his side.

"Cath, he's not breathing!" Nick choked. "Greg, please wake up."

"He'll be okay, Nick. Let's start CPR; you do the compressions I'll do the breathing."

Nick nodded quietly and put one hand over the center of Greg's chest and placing the other on top and pressing down repeatedly for thirty times. When he was done, Catherine tilted Greg's head and pinched his nose before breathing into his mouth.

"Yeah, I need an ambulance immediately at the junk yard on Jefferson; we have an officer down!" Brass shouted into the phone.

Catherine and Nick did two sets of CPR, but Greg still wasn't responding. His face was turning an ashen gray and his lips were dark blue.

"Greg, come on," Catherine whispered before giving two rescue breaths.

Nick winced every time he pressed down on Greg's chest, hearing the cracking of his ribs. And the way his body gave under his weight made him sick. "Come on, buddy! Come on!" The kid had been dead for two and a half minutes. A whole one-hundred and fifty seconds. "Oh god."

"Keep pressing, Nicky," Catherine shouted.

The Texan grunted. You wouldn't be able to get him to stop. Hell no. He would never give up on this kid. Another minute passed and the two were exhausted; just as they heard Brass say the medics were here, Greg suddenly started gasping and coughing, some color returning to his lips.

"Thank god," Nick breathed, brushing the soaked bangs out of the kid's eyes before cupping his neck. "Easy bud. Just breathe, you're gonna be okay."

Greg opened his eyes and looked around sluggishly and confused. It was dark and it sounded like rain…he was so cold. Why was he so cold? He heard Nick's voice come from somewhere, but he couldn't tell which direction or if he was just imagining it. Exhausted, his eyes closed again, darkness reigning him in.

Greg's eyes closed again and Nick grew worried and tapped the kid's face. "Greg? Greggo!"

"He's still breathing, Nick," Catherine assured. "Now, let's give the medics some room."

Nick looked up to see the EMT's running towards them. The rain still wasn't letting up and Nick was freezing…so who knows how cold Greg was.

"What happened?" The medic, Sharon, yelled.

"I think he was electrocuted! It might've been the lightning!" Nick replied.

The paramedic bobbed her head as she and her partner rolled Greg onto the stretcher and strapped him on. "We're bringing him to Desert Valley Medical," Sharon yelled as they wheeled Greg to the ambulance. "Is anyone coming with him?"

"Y-Yeah," Nick shivered as he followed the gurney.

"We'll wrap up here, Nick," Catherine smiled sadly. "Go make sure our Greg doesn't leave us, okay?"

Nick nodded, wiping the rain- and possibly tears- out of his eyes before hopping into the back of the vehicle and shutting the doors. When the ambulance started to move, Nick blinked a couple times to adjust his eyes to the light and when he saw Greg, he felt his heart sink. The kid looked way worse than he did outside.

"Oh Greg." His face was white, lips still a shade of blue and his teeth were chattering. His eyes appeared sunken with the dark purple shadows underneath them. His normally styled blonde hair was matted down from the water and he could see a little bit of red in the back, indicating Greg must've hit his head when he was electrocuted. And then there were the burns. They didn't seem too bad, but they looked like they hurt like hell. When the medics took off Greg's vest and unbuttoned his shirt, there were even more burns and bruises. Nick rubbed his forehead, trying to take a deep breath. The other medic, David, handed him a blanket and the CSI wrapped himself in it, but not really focusing on how cold he was.

"Start him fluids, temperature is low. Blood pressure is dropping gradually as well as the oxygen levels." An IV was stabbed into the crook of Greg's elbow and an oxygen mask was placed over his mouth. The rest of Greg's clothes were cut off to avoid hypothermia and a thick blanket was placed over his body after the bandaged the burns, but the shivering wouldn't stop.

Nick pursed his lips and grabbed Greg's ice cold hand in both of his, attempting to warm it up. "Why didn't you listen to me, man? You should've just stayed in the car. I told you to stay, because I couldn't protect you if you got hurt. Now…I'm sorry, G."

He suddenly heard a weak moan and Greg's eyes began to flicker open. The younger CSI looked up at Nick tiredly, pain present as well. "M'sorry, Nick," he rasped. "S-So sorry."

Nick looked at the kid sadly, squeezing his hand. "It's okay, buddy."

"Blood pressure is plummeting!" Sharon exclaimed.

Nick gasped, looking up at her and then at Greg again, just in time to see his friend's eyes roll to the back of his head before his whole body started convulsing, though restrained by the straps.

"He's seizing!"

Nick was forced to sit back as he watched the medics help Greg. _Don't do this, man._

"We're at the hospital," Sharon said and the vehicle stopped. Greg was quickly wheeled out and towards the ER. Nick just stood in the waiting room, confused and fearful at what just happened. What if that was the last time he saw Greg alive? He would never forgive himself for the things he said earlier today. He was a total bastard for no goddamn reason and he needed to apologize immediately.

~+CSI+~

The rest of the team had showed up a half hour after Nick had gotten there and they all waited for three hours for word on their teammate. Nick couldn't stop thinking about the words he had said…and he couldn't stop feeling guilty. He was still wet, despite the blanket he had on his shoulders, but couldn't feel anything. His whole body was numb…not with cold. With fear.

"How are you doing, Nicky?" Catherine asked, sitting next to him and putting a gentle hand on his back.

He shook his head. "It's my fault."

"Why's that?"

"I don't know…I just really feel like it is."

"Nick that could've happened to anyone. It could've happened to _you_ for all we know. It's a rare occurrence…Greg was just the unlucky one."

"I was such an asshole to him before we got to the yard. I basically told him he wasn't right for this job and he thinks that I don't trust him. I put him down, Cath. What if those were the last things he heard me say to him? What if he dies thinking that I hate him?"

"He won't because he's not going to die. Greg is strong. Stronger than we give him credit for. He's going to make it through, okay? You gotta believe that."

"I know…I'm trying."

"Family of Gregory Sanders?"

They all looked up to see that a doctor come through the double doors. Nick took a deep breath and quickly stood up. "That's us."

The woman walked over and shook their hands. "My name is Dr. Liz Schwann, I've been tending to Gregory. What's your relation to him?"

"W-We're his co-workers," Nick said, clearing his throat. "But um…we're like family. His mom lives all the way in Ohio and she's not answering her phone…please. Just tell me if he's okay."

Dr. Schwann looked at the group sadly and nodded. "Alright. Why don't we take a seat?"

They all sat and waited for the news, Catherine tightly holding Nick's hand to calm him down. She could tell he was worried- maybe terrified- that Greg would die. She was scared too; Greg was like a son to her as much as he was a brother to Nick. He didn't deserve this.

"The electrocution triggered a heart attack and making his heart very weak. We've taken some imaging and saw that there was some scarring on the muscle, too. Now, when Greg was brought in, he had cardiac arrhythmia due to the seizure; arrhythmia is where the heartbeat becomes irregular and therefore life-threatening. He's also suffering from a slight case of myocarditis, where the myocardium- or wall of the heart- is inflamed. In order for his heart to be able to heal without any stressors, we put him into a medically induced coma for the next three days or until he shows some improvement. Unfortunately, he's unable to breathe on his own, so we have him on a ventilator, but depending on his progress, we might be able to take it out in a couple days. The electrocution also gave him some pretty bad cutaneous burns on his chest, arms and neck, but we've treated that. There was a small bump on his head, but it was nothing too serious. It's going to be touch and go for a while and I'm not gonna lie, his life will be a bit more difficult and he's gonna have to be more careful with the things that he does from now on. The heart is not to be messed with especially when damaged. Once he's recovered, I'll prescribe him pills that we can talk about in the future. And speaking of the future, there will possibly be some long term effects of the electrocution, such as memory loss, breathing problems and chest pains. But again, we will cross that bridge when we get there."

Nick felt nauseous. Greg's life had been altered forever. "Can we…" he took a deep breath. "Can we see him?"

"Of course. He can only have one visitor at a time, though."

Nick ended up being the one to go, led down the hall by the doctor. "Like I said, he's in a coma, but that doesn't mean he can't hear you. Just talk to him and let him know he's not alone." They stopped in front of a small room and Dr. Schwann opened it quietly. "If you need anything, the nurse's station is right down the hall."

"Thanks." When Nick stepped into the room, he sighed in dejection. "Oh Greg." There were so many wires, tubes and machines surrounding the young CSI. There were some sort of pads on Greg's chest, monitoring his heart and when he looked up at the screen, he could tell how weak it was by its sluggish beating. A tube was coming out from his slack mouth and leading up to a large clicking machine…helping him breathe. His face was nearly transparent and bruised and bandages were wrapped around the burns and I.V's that were poked into his arms were providing, fluids and antibiotics. Nick wiped his mouth as he walked over and sunk into the chair next to the bed. "Greggo." He grasped the kid's clammy hand and smoothed back some strands of hair from his forehead. Greg was so still…too still. He would give anything to see Greg fidgeting around in the passenger seat again. "God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

For two days, Nick sat with Greg. Whether it was just him or someone else who ended up visiting, he didn't want to leave. He knew the kid wouldn't be waking up until he was taken out of the coma, but he was worried that if he left, something bad might happen. And he couldn't take that chance. Greg had been moved into a more private room with a view and it was much nicer than the one in the ICU. Get well cards and flowers took up one nightstand while the other had toys and balloons. Nick sat in a more comfortable armchair by the window and stared outside. It was still raining and he didn't know when the hell it would let up. Sighing he looked back over to Greg…small, unmoving…well his chest was moving, but that wasn't even him and his eyes were twitching underneath his lids, like he was in some kind of nightmare, but no matter what, he still wouldn't be opening his eyes. His heartbeat had become a little stronger, but it wasn't where the doctor wanted it to be. The Texan looked back outside and yawned before hearing a knock on the door. Glancing over, he saw Catherine and Warrick step in.

"Hey," he said tiredly, giving them a small smile.

"How are you doing, man?" Warrick said, patting his friend's shoulder.

"I'm doing alright."

"Uh, huh," Catherine raised his brows. "That's why you look like death with bags under your eyes. You need to go home, Nicky."

"I'm _fine._ I don't need to go home."

"At least let me buy you a coffee from the cafeteria. We'll only be one floor down," Warrick insisted.

"And I'll be right here, I promise. Greg's not gonna wake up for another twenty-four hours and you won't be much help to him when he does if you pass out."

Nick hesitated for a moment before giving in. "Okay." He gave one last look to Greg before letting Warrick lead him out of the room.

Catherine pursed her lips before going to sit down with Greg. "Oh honey." She brushed back his hair. "Don't stop fighting, alright? We can't lose our crazy new CSI. You're gonna be a great one, Greg, don't you think otherwise."

~+C+~

Warrick sat down at a table with two cups of coffee, sliding one across to Nick. The Texan thanked him and took a small sip before setting it back down.

"You okay?"

"Not really."

"Greg's gonna be fine, man. He always pulls through."

Nick ran his fingers through his hair. "Yeah I know. I just feel…guilty. I was horrible to him; I made him stay in the car when we got to the junk yard. Greg thought it was because I didn't want him to make the arrest and be considered the "hero." But I didn't fucking care about that, this was exactly what I was afraid of. I did it because I was trying to protect him. He's like a brother to me and I really hate seeing him hurt. I'm supposed to be the…the big brother that makes sure nothing like this happens…did a shitty job with that, huh."

Warrick smirked. "Greg doesn't hold grudges, Nick. He'll understand why you did what you did when you tell him."

Nick nodded and looked down at his drink and they both sat there quietly for a few moments. All of a sudden, they heard a beep followed by a nurse's voice over the intercom.

_"Code blue! Room 235, code blue room 235!"_

Nick shot up, his heart going with him. Wasn't that Greg's room? That had to be Greg's room.

"Nick, easy, that's not Greg's room! He's in room 239, remember?"

Nick breathed a sigh of relief and sat back down with a nervous chuckle. "Maybe I really am tired."

"Okay, well why don't you go home for a couple of hours and rest. Cath and I will hold down the fort here. Like she said. He's not gonna wake up until tomorrow."

"Alright." He was too tired to argue now.

"Cool. I'm gonna tell Catherine I'm bringing you home. Go wait outside, I'll be right there."

"Yeah." Nick wiped his face and finished the coffee before throwing the cup away and leaving the hospital. Twenty minutes later found Nick in his apartment. His dark, empty apartment. He flicked on the lights in the kitchen and grabbed a beer. Greg and he were supposed to go out drinking this weekend to celebrate him becoming a CSI, but that wasn't happening. He was pretty sure it wouldn't be happening after everything he had said to the kid. God, he was such an asshole. He downed the alcohol before tossing the bottle in the sink and heading for his room. The second he hit the pillows, he was out cold.

**Day Three**

Nick hadn't realized he slept all night until he looked at his clock and seeing it was nine in the morning. He hadn't been sleeping for more than a couple hours…he had been sleeping for eight hours. Sitting up, he grabbed his phone from the nightstand his and saw that he had a missed call from Catherine without a voicemail…which made all the blood in his body run cold. It couldn't be good. Throwing back the covers, Nick shaved what little stubble had sprouted in the past few days, got dressed, and called a taxi to bring him to the hospital.

The second he got there, he stepped into the elevator and waited impatiently for the cart to reach the second floor and then bolted down the hallway to Greg's room. What caused Catherine to call and not leave a message? So many scenarios ran through his mind…bad scenarios. Skidding to a stop in front of Greg's room, he opened the door and his heart thudded against his chest. Greg was still pale and immobile…was his chest moving? He couldn't tell. The tube was gone…did that mean he was dead?

"Nicky, calm down," Catherine said, coming out of nowhere. He's okay."

He opened the door further and saw that nurse was fiddling with Greg's I.V's before putting a nasal cannula under his nose.

"What?"

"He's fine. The doctor took him out of the coma, he's breathing on his own and his heart is getting a little stronger. The doctor said he should wake up by the end of the day today or tomorrow morning."

"That's right," Dr. Schwann said, stepping into the room with a warm smile on her face. "Even though his heart is somewhat permanently damaged, there's a lot of ways to manage it. Like I said, there will be a few types of pills that I'll have prescribed to Greg. He's gonna be alright you guys, he sure is a fighter."

_Damn straight._ Nick smiled in relief before going to sit next to his friend. Greg was improving…the kid was stronger than he thought. He should've known better than to doubt the CSI and his abilities. He just hoped that Greg would forgive him…if he remembered that is.

"You hear that man? You're getting better. Wake up soon, okay, so you can kick my ass for being such a bastard to you."

Sadly, there was no response, but now that Greg was no longer in the coma, there was a bigger chance that he would wake up. Nick pursed his lips and squeezed Greg's hand. It was a lot warmer now. "I'm proud of you, kiddo. Forget everything I had said to you earlier, it wasn't true. You're gonna be a really great CSI; I know you love to goof around, but I should've known you wouldn't be that way at a crime scene. Don't lose your sense of humor, though, okay? We still need a funny guy around the lab."

"Nicky's right, Greg," Catherine said, walking up and rubbing the kid's arm. "Don't lose that charm. We need a big ball of light with this job that we have. So get better."

Greg's eyes twitched a little more, but that was it.

"Give it time, man," Warrick said with a smile. "You know he likes to make us wait."

"Yeah," Nick chuckled as he looked out the window to see the rain had stopped and the sun was out. It was starting to be a good day.

Throughout the entire day, Nick had read two magazines, watched crappy daytime shows and then went to the cafeteria for lunch and dinner with Warrick. Catherine had been called away on a case since both Sara and Grissom were at a CSI convention for two more days and they were short on staff. And yet, Greg did nothing but twitch a few times.

Then the end of the day had come, but nothing had happened. And Nick could only pray that tomorrow would be the day Greg would open his big brown eyes.

~+C+~

**12:00pm**

Nick was reading the paper, trying not to focus on Greg who was still sleeping. Maybe if he stopped staring at the kid, he would finally regain consciousness. _What if something's wrong? What if he never wakes up? Stop it, Stokes. Greg will wake up, no doubt about it. Right?_ He bit his lips nervously and was about to go find Greg's doctor when he heard a weak moan come from the bed. His heart nearly stopped and he looked over to see Greg's forehead creased and his eyes fluttering.

"Greg?" He leaned forward and cupped the man's face. "Greggo, can you hear me?" He looked up to the doorway, wondering if he should get the doctor. "Hang on, buddy, I'll be right back." He briskly stepped out into the hallway and found a nurse who said she'd get Dr. Schwann. In minutes, Liz came into the room, forcing Nick to step out for a moment while she did a couple tests.

"Greg? Greg, can you open your eyes?" She lifted his eyelid and shined a penlight into his eye, doing the same for the other one.

Greg moaned, turning away. It took a minute, but his eyes finally opened and he scanned the room in confusion. This definitely wasn't his apartment. And why did his body hurt so much?

"W-Where…where a-am I?" He rasped and the doctor gave him a small sip of water.

"The hospital. Do you know who you are? What year it is?"

Greg wiped his eyes. "Uh…Greg Sanders…and 2005?"

"Good, that's good. Now do you remember what happened?"

"Kinda." His chest ached a lot right now. "It's all a little blurry right now."

"That's alright; you were struck by lightning four days ago. It's rare, but you're extremely lucky you survived. We put you in a medically induced coma for three of those days so your heart could heal without any interruptions."

"M-My heart? What's wrong with it?"

"Well, your heart had stopped for three and a half minutes first of all and your friends had to perform CPR. Before you got here, you went into cardiac arrhythmia and had a seizure. You have a slight case of myocarditis- inflammation of the heart- but that's nothing that can't be treated with medication."

Greg looked sick and Liz smiled sadly. "You're gonna be fine, Greg. I believe you're gonna make an excellent recovery. You're life might not be exactly the same, but it should get pretty close. All that matters is that you're alive and you have a family that really cares about you. Especially one guy, Nick Stokes? He rarely ever left your side."

Greg frowned. "Really?"

"Mmhmm. Now I'm gonna go prescribe you your medications and in a few more days you should be able to go home. Jess will get you sitting up, get you some more water and administer some pain meds, because I'm sure your chest hurts a bit."

"Yeah," Greg winced, massaging his chest.

"Alright, I'll be back in a bit. In the meantime, you have a visitor."

Greg watched as the doctor left the room and started speaking to someone in the hallway. The nurse in his room raised the bed to a one-hundred and fifteen degree angle and fluffed his pillows, propping him up and making him more comfortable.

"How's that, Hun?" She asked.

"That's good," he replied, forcing a smile. At least the ache in his ribs went away.

"Okay, I'm putting in the pain medication now." She flicked the tip of needle, liquid squirting out before she pushed it into his I.V. Almost immediately, all the pain in his body dulled.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," she smiled brightly. "I'll get you some more water and if you need anything else, just press the button to your right." The brunette left the room and someone else instantly came in. _Nick._

"Greg," Nick breathed in relief, a smile breaking out on his face. He went over and brought the kid into a gentle hug. "Thank god you're okay."

Greg slowly hugged him back before they pulled apart. Nick smiled and looked the man over. He looked tired; his face still had a grayish hue to it and the shadows under his eyes were starting to look like dark purple bruises. But he was alive and that's all that mattered. Nick sat down and put his hands on his thighs.

"How are you feeling, buddy?"

"Sore…tired," Greg replied in a scratchy voice.

"Man, how can you be tired, you've been sleeping for nearly a week," Nick chuckled.

Greg smiled but it barely reached his cheeks.

Nick could sense something was wrong and he had an idea as to what it was. "You okay?"

The blonde remained silent for a moment before speaking. "I thought…I thought you hated me."

It was like a stake to the heart. "What? No, Greg, I could never hate you. Why would you think that?"

Greg swallowed and looked down at his hands. "It's…I thought you didn't want me going with you because I was a burden. I don't know…the way you said those things…it made me think that you weren't happy for me being a CSI and that you didn't want me around."

At least he still remembered. Too bad it wasn't the good stuff. "Greg, you were never a burden. Ever. And I was glad- I _am_ glad that you became a CSI. I proud of you. So proud. The reason I didn't want you coming to chase the suspect was because…I didn't want you to get hurt. I know that sounds stupid, but you're still learning and getting used to all this, plus you don't like having a gun…I'm surprised you even grabbed yours."

Greg shrugged. "Guess I gotta get used to it sometime. And…I'm sorry I got out of the car. I just wanted to prove myself. Messed that up big time."

"You're gonna be okay, bud. I promise," Nick said, resting his hand on Greg's arm.

Greg smiled uncertainly, tears welling in his eyes. "What if…what if I lose my job, because of this heart thing? I just became a CSI and now all my efforts and weeks of hard work is supposed to go down the drain?"

"No. No, don't think that, okay? I'll make damn sure you still have this job, you definitely earned it; and it's not even in the job description to chase suspects so you'll be fine anyways…and sorry that I was so mean to you earlier this week. I was only worried and that's what makes me irritable. I'm not used to you being outside the lab and in the field when things can get bad real fast and you wouldn't even know what hit you. I just can't protect you as much now that you're out in the open."

Greg sighed. "Nick, you don't need to protect me. I'm okay and I know how to take care of myself."

"I know that, man, but…well, you're like a little brother to me and it's _my_ job as a big brother to take care of you no matter what."

Greg stared at Nick for a second before letting a small grin form on his face. "Thanks for that."

Nick started feeling a little better now that he got things cleared up. "_And_ it's also my job to hook you up with chicks."

Greg's smile grew wider as he rolled his eyes, sinking back into the pillows. He was exhausted, but he was going to stay up for Nick, just for a while. He could tell the guy had a rough four days.

"A bunch of nurses out there were gossiping about how hot you are, which I beg to differ. They totally passed me over, a conscious being, for you who was sleeping the entire time."

"Hey," Greg chuckled. "That's not my fault. They had be drugged up."

"They've been wanting to get your number once you recovered."

Greg yawned, growing tired. "Well, I'm obviously more attractive than you. I mean, come on, look at me," he gestured weakly at himself.

"Ha ha, very funny hotshot. Anyways, they all got you cards and it has their numbers in it."

Greg raised his eyebrow. "You read them?"

Nick smirked. "Sorry, couldn't help myself." He grabbed one of the cards from the nightstand and handed it to Greg.

The blonde smirked when he opened it up and scanned it. It was simple with a get well message and below was a signature, a number and a kiss mark next to it. "Jill."

"Personally, I think she's the hottest," Nick laughed. "I think she came into this room more times than your doctor just to "check your I.V. lines." Pretty sure she almost gave you a sponge bath."

Greg chuckled. "That would've been nice. Do you think she'll still give me one if I'm awake?"

"I wouldn't put it past her, G." Nick put the card back on the table and exhaled slowly. He looked at his friend and could tell he was having a hard time staying awake.

"Why don't you get some rest, bud, the others will come by later."

"Okay."

"And Greg…I'm glad you're okay." Really glad. They had come too close to losing the kid.

"Thanks…for looking…out for me."

"You're welcome, buddy," Nick beamed, clutching Greg's hand briefly. "You're welcome." As soon as Greg's eyes closed, the smile vanished from Nick's face. Greg's life had been completely turned upside down; he was gonna have to be more careful with what he did from now on. And _he_ was going to be a better friend…a better big brother. He smoothed back Greg's hair before getting up to go call Catherine. Greg was gonna become an amazing CSI, no doubt about it.

**FIN!  
NEED MORE PROMPTS AND REVIEWS!**

**A/N: I tried to look up as much information for the electicution and the injuries, but I apologize if I got anything wrong/mixed up!**

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	7. Shot in the Head

**Shot to the Head**

_**Prompt for Doodleidoo. Sorry it's been a while since I updated, finals are coming up and it's been getting hectic. Need more reviews!**_

_**Enjoy!**_

"Who have we got here?" Catherine said, squatting down next to the dead body.

"Drew Bean, 21 years old, star basketball player," stated Brass. "Janitor found him this morning during his rounds. According to him, the kid wasn't as liked as he thought he was."

"Guess the suspect list just tripled," muttered Greg before he snapped a few pictures.

"Yeah; it could anyone at this damn school," Warrick added. "Who knows how long it'll take to talk to all of them."

"We're just gonna have to narrow it down somehow," Catherine replied.

The three of them had been called to a scene at West Las Vegas University where a student had been brutally murdered. Greg took another picture before he noticed a faint blood trail.

"Hmm…it doesn't look like the gym was the primary. I'm gonna follow the blood and see where it leads."

"Alright," Catherine said as she looked up. "Warrick, you go talk to the janitor, I'll start processing the body."

They all went their separate ways, not knowing the danger lurking around the corner. Greg walked slowly down the hallway and into the locker room where the blood drops seemed to get bigger. They were gravitational so maybe their victim had tried walking out but collapsed in the gym. Once he put some tags down and took more pictures, he entered the eerily quiet boy's locker room. The only sound he could hear was the occasion drip from a leaky faucet and his own breathing. He nervously bit his lip, having a weird feeling in his stomach before continuing to follow the path towards the back where most of the lockers resided. When he turned the corner, he saw bloody handprints on a single locker and knew that something had to be up. With a hand cautiously over his gun, he moved over and reached for the handle. Almost immediately, he was knocked backwards by a brutal punch and then pinned against the other row of lockers. He was being attacked! Blinking furiously, he refocused his vision and saw a skinny man that looked to be no older than twenty with blood on his hands…he was the murderer.

"You should've just stayed in the gym."

Greg grunted and tried to push against the force. He was _not_ letting this kid get the drop on him.

"Well maybe…you should've left…when you had the chance." He pushed back, managing to gain control for a brief moment and clocking the suspect in the chin, scratching his cheek in the process. At least if the guy _did_ get the upper hand, he still had some evidence.

"I couldn't…doors were locked and the janitor was coming. Figured I'd hide in here until the doors opened up."

"Big mistake," Greg seethed, but was surprised when the kid punched him again, a lot harder than the last time.

"No…big mistake for you. I'm a wrestler. Captain of my team and I'm not gonna let you throw that all away." He shoved the blonde against a wall, pressing his arm against the CSI's neck so he couldn't breathe.

Greg gasped when his oxygen was cut off but wasn't going down without a fight. A shaky hand started to reach for his gun and he managed to get it out of his holster before the kid noticed and snatched it away. Greg struggled with all the energy that he had left, fearing for his life…he was going to die if he didn't get his gun back.

"S-Stop!" He choked.

"No can do." The kid brought up the gun to his head.

"They're gonna find out it was you," he growled, the lack of oxygen making him lightheaded.

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

Greg's eyes widened and the last thing he heard was a gunshot before everything went black.

~+CSI+~

_Bang!_

Catherine gasped, shooting up from her crouched position as she heard was a gun go off in the direction of the locker rooms…where Greg was.

"Warrick!" She shouted into the walkie talkie as she and Brass ran out of the gym. "Shot's fired!"

_"I heard it!"_ The second Warrick heard the shot, his heart leapt into his throat, hoping that Greg wasn't on the receiving end of the gun. He bolted down the hallway and pushed through the door. "Greg?! Greg, answer me." He ran through the aisle of lockers and then skid to a stop when he saw the younger man. "Oh god no."

Greg was on the floor in a crumpled heap, face extremely pale and blood pooling underneath his head. Warrick rushed over and fell to his knees next to the CSI, praying to god that the kid was still alive. He pressed his fingers to Greg's neck and let out a small sigh of relief. The pulse was there but it was extremely weak and he didn't know how long it would last. The man was shot in the head for godsakes!

"Greg?" He said, gathering the limp body in his arms and cradling his head to stop the bleeding. "Greg, man can you hear me?" The blonde's head fell to the side and Warrick grabbed his face, trying to see any sign of acknowledgement. But Greg's face was completely emotionless. "Oh god. Greg!" He patted the younger man's face harshly, trying to do anything to wake him up, but his efforts were going unheeded. "Catherine! Call for help!" He screamed at the top of his lungs when he heard footsteps.

"Warrick, what's the- shit." The blonde pulled out her phone and called for an ambulance. "Yes, I have an officer down, he was shot in the head! I need someone here immediately!"

She looked down at the kid she considered a son. He was too pale and too quiet, Greg never stopped moving and seeing him so deathly still scared the crap out of her. "Is he…is he alive?"

"Barely," Warrick choked, pressing hard on the wound, blood squelching between his fingers. "Hang on, man. Hang on. Damn, Nick isn't gonna be happy about this."

Catherine swallowed. She couldn't even imagine how the Texan was going to react to this news. Greg was like a little brother to the man and this…this might kill him. "You let me deal with Nick. You just go with Greg to the hospital and make damn sure that he fights. We're not losing him today."

Warrick pursed his lips and nodded as he looked down at his friend. The kid was barely breathing and the color seemed to have drained completely from his face…making him appear dead. And there was blood everywhere…so much blood. "Jesus." He rested his chin on Greg's cold forehead and prayed. Today was not the day Greg Sanders was going to die. He refused to let him.

**At the Lab**

Sara, Grissom, and Nick returned to the lab after their scene. It was a B&amp;E gone sour, but it seemed pretty cut and dry…and to Nick that meant possibly going home early. Relaxing on the couch watching the football game with a beer sounded pretty good right now. They filed into the layout room just as Grissom got a call.

"Grissom…"

Nick looked up and the second he saw his supervisor's face go pale, he knew that something was up.

"When?" Gil said, making eye contact with the Texan…his eyes filled with fear and sorrow.

"What is it?" Nick breathed.

"Alright…I'll said Nick over, Sara and I will go to the scene…how is he?"

_He? Who was 'he' and why did Grissom look so sad?_ Nick's heart was racing, knowing that once Grissom got off the phone, the inevitable was coming.

"Okay, thanks Catherine." Gil hung up and bowed his head, pursing his lips.

"Gris, what's going on? What happened?"

The older man looked up and sighed. "Greg…he was shot."

Nick felt all the air rush out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe and his body felt numb. _Greg was shot. Greg was shot. Greg was shot._ He felt extremely sick. "Oh god." Greg was his little brother and he was supposed to be protecting the kid and now he could be dying.

"Breathe, Nicky," Grissom said, appearing by his side with a hand on his arm. "Sara is going to bring you to the hospital where Catherine and Warrick are."

He didn't argue and everything after was a complete blur to him.

When he got to the hospital, Warrick was coming out of the emergency room…and Nick's heart stopped. The man was covered in blood. It stained his clothes, his face and his hands. His stomach rolled and he swallowed thickly, trying to hold down the bile.

"Nick," the man smiled grimly, walking up to him.

"How bad?" He whispered, forcing himself to remain calm.

The man hesitated, looking at the Texan sadly, sharing a look with Catherine who came from the bathroom.

"How bad, 'Rick," choked Nick. He needed to know.

Warrick exhaled, rubbing his forehead. "Really bad, man. They aren't sure if he'll even make it past surgery. He was shot in the head."

Nick swore and ran a hand over his hair. "What happened?"

"Whoever it was, possibly the murderer of our victim at the school, must've been hiding in the lockers or something and came out when Greg was following the blood trail," Catherine began.

Warrick nodded. "The kid put up a fight, though. There were bruises on his knuckles and face; maybe he has DNA underneath his fingernails that we can get. I asked, that once out of surgery, that they let him be processed."

"I'll do it," Nick blurted out. "I wanna see him."

Catherine frowned, putting a hand on the Texan's shoulder. "Nick, I don't think that's a good idea."

"I don't care," he seethed. "He's my best friend; I _need_ to see him."

The woman sighed. Nick wasn't going to let this go…she somehow knew that this would be the case. "Okay. Go get your kit; the surgery will probably take a while. Warrick, why don't you go home and get cleaned up, drop off your clothes at the lab since its evidence. I'll stay here. I sent Grissom and Sara to the crime scene, so we're gonna get the bastard who did this."

Nick walked back outside to his Denali and opened the back door, leaning forward to rest his head on the seat so he could compose himself. Warrick had been covered in so much blood and it made him wonder how much was at the scene. He closed his eyes, telling himself not to cry, because it wasn't an option. He had to be strong for his brother. After a couple more minutes, he stood up straight and grabbed his kit and headed back inside.

Two excruciating hours later found Nick staring down at Greg's pale, skinny, motionless form. He really couldn't believe this was happening right now. "God dammit Greg." He chewed on his bottom lip, staring at the machines surrounding his friend. The ventilator helping him breathe, the tube coming from his head to drain the extra fluid, and another one transfusing blood back into his body. Worst of all, the surgeon was unable to get the bullet out, because it was too dangerous, especially during his surgery. And to add to the misery, the kid was in a fucking coma. Wanting to get this over with, Nick set the kit on the ground and pulled out his camera. The nurse in the room lifted up the bandage that was covering the bullet wound on Greg's head. It hadn't been stitched up yet so he was just looking into a dark abyss. He put a ruler next to it before taking a picture and then moved down to Greg's hands. His knuckles were bruised and it made Nick's chest swell with pride knowing that Greg had gotten a couple punches in himself. Once he was done with the pictures, he grabbed tweezers and an envelope before gently lifting the blonde's fingers one by one, collecting whatever evidence he could get

"He'll be okay," the nurse said with a smile when Nick paused. "You got yourself a fighter here; he pulled through surgery and made it this far."

Nick forced a small grin at the woman before she left to get the things to stitch up the bullet hole. The Texan looked at Greg silently, trying to take it all in; after a few moments, he lightly squeezed the kid's cold and then left without another word. Time to get this son of a bitch.

~+CSI+~

A week went by and Greg's condition barely changed. Sure, the color in his face was returning and he had a better chance of surviving, but no matter what, the coma still claimed him. And Nick was afraid the kid would be stuck in his own mind forever. They had gotten the guy that had attacked him and also murdered Drew since his prints were all over the lockers and his skin epithelial that had been recovered from underneath Greg's nails. And he was going away for a very, very long time…sporting a black eye and broken nose courtesy of Nick's fist. The boy, Michael Reid had killed Drew because the basketball player had tormented him day after day until he finally snapped.

"Greg man," Nick said quietly, watching the blonde breathe in and out slowly…on his own thankfully. "You gotta wake up. We all miss you." He glanced around at the get well cards on the nightstands and the balloons floating in the corner. The kid didn't know how loved he was. Nick brushed back a stray blonde strand from Greg's forehead and chuckled weakly. "And you missed out on the sponge bath." His smile faltered as Greg's face remained emotionless. "God." Nick bowed his head, running both hands through his hair. They had tried calling Greg's mom earlier this week but apparently she was on a cruise and wouldn't be reachable for another five days. But Nick was fine with that; it meant he wouldn't have to leave because he technically wasn't family.

"Any change?"

Nick looked up at the gruff voice to see Warrick coming in with two cups of coffee.

"Thanks," Nick said when the man handed him one. "And no…what if he never wakes up?"

"He will, man," Warrick huffed, taking a seat on the other side of the bed. "He's still fighting like hell. But his injuries were pretty bad so I don't blame him for being in a coma this long."

Nick stood up and turned to look out the window.

"I'm sorry Nick, I know that's not what you want to hear."

"No, no, you're right," the Texan breathed facing Warrick again. "I don't blame him either. It just sucks you know?"

"Yeah." Warrick looked down at the pale CSI and wondered if there could've been a way to prevent all this. Because right now, he felt guilty as hell for not watching out for the man he considered a goofy little brother. They were all a family and losing one of their own- especially to carelessness- was never easy. He already lived through it once with Holly Gribbs and he really couldn't do it again.

Another day went by and Nick was coming back from a coffee break. When he turned into the room, he saw something that made the cup nearly slip from his fingers. Greg was awake! His eyes were fluttering open and his face was scrunched up in confusion, his feet moving around underneath the blankets.

"Greg!" He laughed in relief, putting down the coffee and striding over to the bed. "Hey buddy." He placed a gentle hand over Greg's chest as the kid blinked a few times. But when the blonde looked up at him, there was no recognition in his big brown eyes.

"Greggo, do you know where you are?" Nick said, worry starting to grow in the pit of his stomach.

Greg shook his head, looking scared.

"Do you…do you know who I am?" And when Greg spoke, Nick knew there was something seriously wrong.

"Are you…are you my dad?" Greg said in a child-like voice.

_Oh god._ "W-What?"

"Where's mommy?"

"Greg…how old are you?"

The man stared at him suspiciously before counting on his fingers. "Seven."

Nick rubbed the back of his neck and stood up straight. "Shit."

~+C+~

Nick was forced to wait outside while the doctor did a couple tests on Greg. He was scared…Greg's memory had basically been wiped and even worse, he was back as a little kid.

"Nick! I got your text!" Catherine panted, running up behind him. "What happened?"

"He lost his memory, Cath."

"Well, Dr. Rivera said that was poss-"

"I mean…he doesn't know that he's an adult, he thinks he's seven years old."

Catherine paled. "Oh no. Has the doctor said anything?"

"No…she's in there doing a few tests. What if he's stuck like this?"

Catherine pursed her lips and placed a hand on Nick's shoulder. "Then we'll take care of him; we'll do anything and everything to get him back on his feet, alright?"

The Texan didn't reply and they waited for the doctor to finish up. When she finally came out after a couple more minutes, she had a grim look on her face.

"Why is he thinking that he's seven?" Questioned Catherine.

"The bullet lodged in the hippocampus which is where memory and thinking is stored. He knows his name, the age he last remembers and all the other basics. He just doesn't know that he's really 27 and works as a crime scene investigator."

"Is he ever gonna remember?"

"My guess is that it's the bullet that's still in his head that's causing this issue. It's not completely definite, but it's a high possibility. However, the risk is still too high for us to put him through another surgery. If we try anything, Greg will have to wait a couple weeks."

Nick rubbed his eyes and nodded. "What do we do until them?"

"Well, since he's "seven" I don't feel comfortable letting him be by himself; he can be released into someone else's care or he can stay here for the time being."

Nick cleared his throat. "He can stay with me. I think I'm one of the emergency contacts in his file anyways." Seven or twenty-seven, Greg was still his little brother.

"Alright, keep a close eye on him, try and get him to remember some things if you can. This will be a very confusing and frustration process for him, so he needs all the support he can get. I'm going to take him to get an MRI in an hour just to see what we're dealing with and then he can be discharged tomorrow morning."

"Thank you Dr. Rivera," Catherine smiled

"Your welcome. And you can go back in the room until we have to take him. He fell asleep shortly after I was done with the tests, but I'm sure he's just exhausted. If you need anything before I come back, the nurses are right across the hall." The woman smiled and turned to leave and get things set up for Greg.

"He's gonna be okay, Nick," Catherine said.

"I hope so," Nick replied, looking through the window at a slumbering Greg. "I really hope so."

~+CSI+~

When Nick brought Greg home, it was a little weird at first. He didn't really know what to say or do…Greg was seven. Nick had been the youngest in his family, not having anyone below him to look after. Sure, Greg was like a little brother, but he still knew how to take care of himself.

"Do you, uh, wanna watch a cartoon?" Nick asked when Greg sat on the couch.

The blonde looked up at him. "When can I go home? I want my mom."

Nick tightened his lips. "Soon, buddy. We're still trying to get ahold of her."

Greg nodded and bit the inside of his cheek, hesitating for a moment. "Who are you again?"

"My name is Nick," the Texan said, sitting down next to his friend on the couch. "I'm…I'm your brother." _He sort of was._

"Oh…I always wanted a big brother…why do I look like this? All old?"

Nick swallowed. He wanted to tell the kid everything, but the doctor said to take it slow and not stress him out. "Uh…I'll tell you later." He flicked on the TV. "What shows do you like?"

"Do you have the science channel?"

Nick smirked. He wasn't surprised Greg was into science at this age. "Yeah man." He pressed a couple buttons before turning up the volume. He handed Greg the remote before standing up. "Want something to eat?"

"Grilled cheese?"

"Comin' right up," he smiled and went to the kitchen. Once he started getting the things together, he saw Greg had gotten off the couch and was now sitting in front of the TV, legs crossed and staring at the screen in awe. Nick shook his head with a chuckle. Maybe this would be fun after all.

Throughout the week, Nick slowly began to ease Greg into the reality that he was really a twenty seven year old man and that he had some brain trauma to make him think he was seven. But they had fun together, too; Nick took some time off and brought Greg to a football game and it was like he had never been to one before because he was super excited. By the time they got home it was late and the kid had tired himself out, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

It wasn't long before that time came…they had a decision to make. The surgery, like Dr. Rivera said, was extremely risking, having a thirty-three percent fatality rate and sixty percent success rate. Sara and Catherine were with Greg in the play room while Nick and Grissom were talking to the doctor.

"Now the surgery will take about four hours and again, it's extremely risky. Mr. Grissom, you're Greg's next of kin after his mother, so you have the decision to make."

Nick looked at his boss nervously chewing on his lip. He wanted this for Greg, but what if things went wrong…what if he died? What if it didn't even work? Sure, it would be weird having a guy thinking he was seven around, but at least he would be alive. Then again, he really wanted the old Greg back.

"However, the longer we wait the more difficult and dangerous it'll be to get the bullet out. So we need an answer soon."

Grissom looked at Nick first…Greg was a valuable member of his team and his family, but he wasn't really connected to the kid on a personal level as Nick was. He didn't really know what would be good for him. The Texan pursed his lips, nodding slightly before Grissom looked back at the doctor.

"Do the surgery."

"Alright," Dr. Rivera said. "I'll need you to sign a few things at first and then we'll get Greg to a post-op room shortly."

While the supervisor finished up with the doctor, Nick got up and headed towards the playroom. He looked into the window and saw Sara and Catherine laughing while Greg was stacking up blocks even though they kept falling down. A small smile crept on his mouth. He liked taking care of his kid brother, but not so much this way. He wanted the Greg who talked about girls, who played loud music and was just a crazy person in general. He prayed that this would work. Twenty minutes later found Greg and Nick alone in the pre-op room, the blonde lying on the bed and Nick in a chair. Greg was frantically looking around, fidgeting and breathing heavily.

"Greg, you're gonna be okay buddy. Just relax."

"But I'm scared, Nicky. What if…what if something bad happens?"

"Nothing bad will happen."

"Promise?"

Nick smiled, ruffling Greg's hair. "I promise little man."

Greg returned the grin and took a deep breath. When the nurse came in to give Greg the anesthesia, the blonde gripped Nick's hand tightly until he fell asleep. Nick stroked the kid's knuckles with his thumb before standing up with a sigh. "He's gonna be okay, right?" He asked the nurse.

The woman smiled. "He'll be fine. He's a lot stronger than he looks, I bet."

Nick chuckled. "Yeah, you're right about that." But when Greg was wheeled out of the room, Nick's smile fell and he collapsed back in the seat and washed both hands over his face. He could tell that the nurse was probably lying to him…that she didn't know if Greg would be okay or not. And if he didn't make if, Nick would never live it down.

**Six Hours Later**

Nick was fucking scared and he couldn't stop pacing. He was fine, yet nervous, until he heard on the intercom that there was a code blue in the operation room. Yes, it could've been any number of patients that were going under the knife, but he had a gut feeling- a big brother feeling- that it was Greg. After that, it was quiet.

"They would've come right out after that, right? If Greg had, you know?" Nick asked Catherine with a shaky voice.

"Yes, Nick, they would've I'm sure. He's going to be okay, you just gotta believe that."

"I'm trying." He really was. But it was difficult; he may or may not see his best friend alive again and it was the worst feeling. The Texan bit his lip and glanced at the double doors for the hundredth time. _Come on kid, what's going on in there?_

A little over another hour passed before the doctor came out giving them the news.

"The surgery was a success, we got the bullet out and he's stable," Dr. Rivera smiled. "However, I won't lie that there were complications during his surgery."

Nick swallowed. He knew it.

"Greg flat-lined shortly after we opened up his skull and we almost had to put the surgery on hold, but we got him back. We won't know until he wakes up if the surgery actually did anything to help him with his memory. The effects of the anesthesia are still wearing off right now, but he should wake up within the next hour or so."

Nick grinned in relief. "Can we sit with him?"

The doctor nodded. "But only one at a time."

And now Nick was sitting with his unconscious friend watching him breathing steadily. The rest of the team had gone home to get some rest, but promised to be back when they could. Greg's face was still a little too pale for his liking and the thick white bandage that was wrapped around his head made it appear like he had a big hat on.

"I'm proud of you bud. I knew you could pull through." He grasped the kid's cool hand and squeezed it gently. "Please come back to us, G. I need my partner in crime again. And Warrick…he feels super guilty and I don't blame him. I mean, I would be too." He smiled sadly and sat back in his chair. "I'll always be here for you, Greg. Don't ever forget that. Even if you don't get your memory back, I'll remind you that every day."

Greg didn't wake up until the next morning and Nick barely got to say anything before he was pushed back by a nurse as she and Dr. Rivera checked the blonde over.

"Glad you're back, Mr. Sanders. Do you know what your name is? How old you are?"

Greg blinked tiredly. He wanted to sleep and wanted these people to stop asking stupid questions. Of course he knew what his name was. "G-Greg," he whispered. "And twenty-seven."

Nick's heart leapt when he heard Greg speak, no longer in a child's voice but in a man's. He knew he was an adult. _Thank god._

"Do you know where you are?"

Greg rolled his eyes to scan the area, but that just hurt his already pounding head. He felt like he'd been hit by a mallet. "The…h-hos…pital?" And why was his voice all slurred? Maybe he was on drugs…the hospital was the place to get them especially if you were a patient.

"That's right," the doctor smiled before waving someone over.

Greg frowned, but then someone came into view.

"Hey buddy," the man grinned, speaking with a Texan accent. "Do you remember me?"

Greg frowned, trying to piece things together, but he had no idea who this guy was. Maybe a friend? A colleague? "N-No…who are you?"

The man frowned. "Greg…it's me, Nick."

Greg tried remembering again, but he came up blank. He shook his head, feeling nervous. Why couldn't he remember? This guy obviously knew him. "I-I really don't know who you are."

"Alright, Nick, you're gonna have to leave for a moment while we finish up here," the doctor said.

Nick hesitated, but cooperated and waited impatiently. When she came back out of the room, she informed him that Greg had retrograde amnesia.

"So…he won't ever remember me?"

"I wouldn't say ever. It will definitely take time to ease him back into his normal life. The trauma to the head plus both surgeries might have jumbled things around, but with help, he could get his memory back."

Nick sighed. _The key word being 'could' not a definite 'he will get his memory back.'_ "Okay…thank you."

"You're welcome. Don't give up hope, Nick. He's a miracle; not very many people would be this lucky and make it this far."

When the doctor left, Nick went back into the room to see Greg staring out the window.

"Hey man."

Greg looked up. "Nick, right?"

"Yeah." The team was not going to like this. "Do you really not remember me?"

Greg shook his head. "Sorry."

"Nah, it's alright, man. It's not your fault."

The blonde smiled weakly and looked down at his hands.

"What if I never remember?"

Nick pursed his lips before resting a hand on Greg's shoulder. "You will, it'll just take time. But I promise I, and your other friends, will do whatever it takes to get you back on your feet."

Greg's smile broadened. "Thank you."

"No problem, buddy. Now, if we're gonna get your memory back, let's start with which football team is the best. No one is better than the Vikings," Nick smirked. If he could Greg on his side that would be awesome even though he sort of liked the rivalry.

Greg scoffed, raising his eyebrows. "Okay, I may have lost _some_ of my memory, but at least I have enough sense to know that the Vikings suck and the Falcons rule."

"Yeah?" Nick laughed and turned to flip the TV on to the football game. "We'll see about that."

"How about we raise the stakes and bet on it. Hundred bucks the Vikings lose."

The Texan laughed again and shook Greg's hand. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad; it was like getting to know Greg all over again…though he didn't change much at all. "You're on, kid."

**FIN  
I apologize if this seemed a bit rushed/unrealistic. It was a little weird to write something like this since I'm not really used to it, but I hope you liked it anyways! Stay tuned for more hurt Greg!**

**Next prompt is for:****_ Guest (1)_**

**_Marymel_**

**_Anonymous (1)_**

**_Marymel_**

**_CamilaAlgo_**

**_feelingsplosion_**

**_Meggysmeg_**

**_SandieBrody_**

**_Anonymous and Guest_**

**_Ashley_**

**_Srta McLean_**

**_Guest (2)_**

**_Tadaa_**

**_Leggomygreggo_**

**_Hadley_**

**_Caprice_**

_**Kalisberg**_

_**Marymel**_

_**SandieBrody**_

**Added Since Last Prompt:**

_**Guest (3)**_

_**Mandy**_


	8. Infected

**Infected**

_**Prompt for: Guest **_

_**Sorry for taking so long; I was so busy with finals and moving out and then working right after, I've barely had time, plus writers block hit me hard. I know a few people really want updates, but it hasn't really felt, with my last couple updates, that people are reading. Sorry, if it's been slow with the stories but I hope people will still read. Enjoy!**_

**Guest: No, it's not too much to ask, but there's a lot of stuff going on and I work fulltime. And sometimes the creativity in my brain works faster for some stories more than others. But I apologize for taking so long.**

* * *

All he could see was the dark, musty room; the smell of blood and death wafting into his nose. It used to make him nauseous, but after nearly fifteen years, he was over it. Greg feared that he and Sara might've been infected, more so Sara since she had passed out from a fever. He was feeling achy and feverish as well, but he didn't want to worry the brunette. He blinked frantically in his sleep; he prayed that she at least didn't have it…she didn't deserve it. He did, though. He knew everyone would say otherwise, but he still hadn't quite gotten over the Demetrius James incident, or the fact that he should've been in that helicopter instead of Morgan. There were plenty of incidents throughout his career that he should've paid for, but got off easy. And now this was payback. Because he could feel it in his body; something wasn't right and he had a sense that he caught the illness. Walking through that shadowed house played through his mind for the fifth time, trying to remember if anything had happened that would've given him the disease. Like the blood splashing up from his untied shoelace and onto his lip. Or just inhaling the air in general. God he was so scared; he really didn't want to die. He really hoped it was all in his head. Greg snapped open his eyes and saw Sara staring at him worriedly from her side.

"Are you okay?" She asked. The pallor in her face had subsided, making her look a little better than she had before.

Greg smiled for good measure though he felt like crap. "Yeah, I'm fine. Probably just stressed out or dehydrated like you were."

"We should get you some water then."

Greg was about to protest, but Sara gave him that look and he nodded. A water bottle was brought in and he hastily downed the whole thing.

"Greg, are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, Sara, I'm good. Really. I mean, I was coming down with something before this, so hopefully it's a cold and not the Ibare virus."

The brunette gave him a wary look and he looked away. "I'm gonna take another nap," he said and laid back down, covering himself with the sheets as a chill went through his body.

Sara frowned worriedly when Greg turned away from her and went back to sleep. He looked horrible; his face was sweaty and pale, he was shivering and she knew he was trying to hide it from her. The guy was strong as hell and that meant he was stubborn, too. Rubbing her arms, Sara went back to her bed as well, hoping this would all be over soon.

The next time Greg opened his eyes, he felt so much worse than before. He didn't think that could be possible, but it was. Groaning in discomfort, he rolled onto his other side to face Sara's compartment…but it was empty. What? He sat up quickly, immediately regretting it went a wave of dizziness hit him at full force. Holding back the urge to puke, he threw off the covers and stumbled to his feet, swaying dangerously.

"S-Sara?" Why was it so hot in here? Couldn't they see this place was already suffocating enough? "Sara!" God, what if she got the virus? What if she…no she couldn't be dead. He peered into her side of the room blearily, but even the bed was made.

"Oh g-god." He stood up, holding his head as he tried to make his way towards the door. He needed answers.

"Greg?"

He gasped and saw Sara standing on the outside of the plastic…how the hell did she get out there? _Why_ was she out there? He blinked a few times to focus, but it was becoming difficult to keep his eyes open. Fuck, he felt like he was in an oven!

"Sara, are you okay?" If she was, he had to be, too right? The brunette stayed outside, a sad look on her face. Why wouldn't she come in?

Sara sighed. "I'm fine…it's…your tests came back positive, Greg. You got the virus."

He couldn't breathe; she had to be lying. _Please tell me this is some sort of joke._ How could she be okay and not him? His head began spinning while his heart painfully beat against his chest.

"Greg, are you feeling okay?" Sara asked, her voice sounding far away. He heard her call for help, but he was starting to zone out. Greg felt something warm dripping out of his nose and brought his fingers up to see what it was. Blood. Shit. He shared a petrified look with Sara before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his world went black.

**Half an Hour Later**

When Greg woke up again, he was feeling worse than ever. Peeling open his eyes, he realized he was in another room and in a more comfortable bed; machines surrounded him and wires were coming out of his arms.

"Greg? Can you hear me?"

Rolling his head to the left, he saw a familiar face inside a large white suit. What the hell was going on? He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get rid of his pounding headache, but it changed nothing. Sounds around him began distorted and he could feel the bile rising in his throat as he tasted blood.

"Greg?"

The blonde moaned and peeled open his eyes again and tried to figure out who was talking to him. The figure standing next to him finally focused and realized who is was.

"S-Sa…ra?" He questioned in a strained voice.

The woman smiled and rested a gloved hand on his shoulder. "Hey."

"What's…what's going on? Where m'I?"

"You're still in the quarantine unit at the hospital; they just moved you to a better room. How are you feeling?" She knew it was stupid question to ask.

"I'm doing okay." He wasn't about to whine to her how bad he hurt.

"Greg, I know you're lying."

The older CSI pursed his lips. "Everything aches…feel nauseous and dizzy."

"Don't worry, bud," Russell said, wearing the same attire and appearing next to Sara. "You're gonna be okay."

Greg huffed in disbelief. "I'm gonna die aren't I. Just like the other two." He coughed violently, wiping his mouth when the fit ended.

Russell looked at him sadly. "You're not gonna die. You're strong, Greg, and you don't have my permission. I promise you're gonna be okay."

Greg stared at him tiredly before he was hit with another coughing bout. When he finished nearly ten seconds later, Greg pulled his hand away and gasped. There was blood on his palm; he breathed heavily, becoming fearful.

"You're gonna be fine, Greg," Sara smiled, trying to calm him down. "You can't get away from me that easy." But inside she was freaking out. How could Greg get this and not her? Why was he so unlucky? She knew that the fatality rate was eighty percent…she just prayed that Greg wasn't going to be one of them. She brushed back the sweaty strands of his blonde hair as he sunk into the pillows while trying to take in a normal breath.

Greg closed his eyes when Sara stroked his hair. _Just like in the alley eight years ago._ He knew he was probably going to die; he could feel it in his body and he knew it was only a matter of time unless they found some sort of cure. Holding back the tears, he took a deep breath and glanced up at Sara.

"Can you…you get Morgan and Nick." If he was going to die, he needed to talk to his brother…and the woman he loved.

Sara sighed but nodded. She didn't know why Greg always thought so low of himself. She didn't know why he didn't believe he would make it…he _would_ make it. She refused to think otherwise. "Greg-"

Suddenly he started coughing again…but he couldn't stop. His lips were turning blue and blood was dribbling onto his chin.

"Greg, breathe!" Sara shouted frightfully. Nurses ran into the room, pushing the two other CSI's back and shutting them out of the room. They watched as they sat the blonde up, rubbing his back and strapping on oxygen mask to his face. A few minutes later, the doctor came out, a grim look on her face.

"What's happening?" Russell asked, trying to stay calm.

"His lungs are getting weaker. Like I said earlier, we're gonna do everything we can here to help him survive, but I'm gonna ask that you leave for a bit and let him rest. That coughing fit left him exhausted and weaker than he already was."

"He's dying isn't he," Sara whispered. She didn't want to believe it, but the other two died and Greg didn't have a very fair chance.

The doctor sighed, sadly looking back at her patient. "Unfortunately, yes he is."

Sara and Russell glanced uncertainly at each other before staring through the clear plastic at Greg who was painfully struggling to inhale the provided oxygen. Nick and Morgan were definitely not gonna like this news.

~+CSI+~

Morgan walked towards the layout room trying to stay calm and not think about Sara and Greg possibly getting the disease. She didn't want to admit it out loud, but she had a crush on Greg. Multiple times she caught herself staring at him or babbling, making a complete fool of herself. When he smiled, god, don't even get her started. He was a total catch and her shyness was keeping her from asking him out. Realizing she wasn't paying attention, she ended up passing the layout room and down the hall. She was about to turn around, when Sara and Russell showed up…and she knew something was wrong when Greg was nowhere in sight. Maybe he was behind, getting something from the car.

"Hey Sara," she grinned. "They released you?"

The brunette forced a smile. "Yeah, my tests came back negative."

Morgan glanced over the woman's shoulder. The older CSI still hadn't shown up. "Where's Greg?"

Sara hesitated, shifting on her feet. "Um…"

The smile vanished from Morgan's face. "Sara?"

"Morgan I'm so sorry," Sara sniffed. "Greg's test came back positive."

The files fell from Morgan's numb fingers, her blood running ice cold. "W-What?" Was she hearing this right? "He's gonna be okay, right?" She whimpered, glancing back and forth at the two. But she was kidding herself.

Sara shook her head and Morgan felt sick. "I need to see him."

"Of course. He was asking for you and Nick. Do you know where he is by the way?"

"I-In the break room," Morgan whispered. Greg was dying; she couldn't believe it.

"I'll go tell him," Russell said, placing a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder. "You guys just head over to the hospital and we'll meet you there."

Morgan nodded jerkily, wiping her eyes as Sara led her out the door. When they left, Russell inhaled deeply and went to go find the Texan. He was gonna take it worse than Morgan because he knew the kid for so long. They were basically brothers.

"Hey Russ," Nick said brightly, putting a coffee cup in the sink. When he turned around, he seemed to sense something was up. "Everything okay?"

Russell shook his head, rubbing his chin. "Uh, why don't you sit down, Nick."

The Texan frowned, but did as he was told. "Russell, you're scaring me. What's going on?" And then it hit him. "Sara and Greg…are they okay?"

"Sara's okay. Greg…he got the virus."

Nick's heart seemed to shatter. "Y-You're serious?" Russell wouldn't joke about that right?

"Unfortunately, yes."

Nick stood up violently from the chair. "Dammit!" His best friend got some deadly virus and now…he really couldn't lose the kid. "What…what are his chances?"

D.B rubbed the back of his head. "Nick-"

"Russ, just tell me," Nick said, his voice breaking.

"They're slim, Nick."

"God." He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down…which was impossible. "Can we go see him?"

"Yeah, he was asking for you and Morgan. She and Sara are already on their way over."

Nick inhaled shakily and nodded. "Let's go then." He wasn't gonna waste any time.

* * *

When they got there, Sara and Nick slowly walked down the hall to where they had Greg shacked up. He was no longer contagious since they hit the 24-hour mark, but he was still dying…and that was not okay.

"Do you, uh…do you want to go in first, Morgan?" Nick asked.

The woman shook her head. "Um…I'm not ready yet." She was terrified at what she would see around the corner. "You can go."

Nick took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay." He rounded the corner and the second he saw Greg, he wanted to cry. The nurse gave him a mask to put on for Greg's protection and it showed the Texan how vulnerable the kid was…that he was really dying.

"Five minutes each, only," said the doctor. "He needs his rest if he wants any chance of getting better."

Nick complied before slowly walking behind the plastic. "Oh god, Greg." The man lying in the bed before him did not even look like the younger CSI. More like a broken shell of him; Greg's face was pale, sweaty and the UV light above him made it look like he had bruises under his sunken eyes. His breathing was wet and scratchy and his lips were chapped and stained with blood. The heart monitor beeped slowly but steady, displaying how weak Greg's body was even though he was trying his hardest to hold on. Nick stepped up to the bed and rest a hand lightly on the blonde's arm. His eyes were closed, but he knew the kid was probably in too much pain to be in a deep sleep.

"Greggo? Greg, can you hear me?"

It took a moment, but Greg's eyes opened groggily and staring lethargically up at the Texan. He squinted in confusion before realizing who was standing next to him. "Ni-Nick?"

Nick smiled. "Hey buddy. How're you doing?"

Greg wheezed and blinked, trying to keep his eyes open. "M'okay. Head hurts…chest hurts…can't believe this is happening…to me." He swallowed tersely, mucus thick in his throat. "G-Guess I…deserve it though."

Nick's forehead creased. "What are you talking about?"

The blonde muffled his cough. "Demetrius James."

"Are you kidding me? You still think you're guilty for that, man? Greg, I told you this eight years ago and I'm telling you now. It was self-defense and you nearly paid for it with your life. It wasn't your fault and the kid got what was coming to him. And this…_no one_ deserves this shit. God, I'm so sorry this happened. I wish I could switch places with you."

Greg smirked. "Trust me, you don't." He coughed a few times, blood appearing on his lips. He glanced up at Nick in embarrassment before wiping it away. "This…sucks," he gasped, resting his head back and closing his eyes.

Nick pursed his lips, placing his hand on top of Greg's head. "I know, bud. But you gotta fight, okay? Greg, listen to me."

The blonde reopened his eyes that were shining with the sickness but also with tears.

"You fight like hell, man. I mean it; I can't lose you. I _won't_ lose you. You're my best friend, my brother. You're an amazing CSI and you can't let this stupid virus cut your life short, alright?"

Greg remained silent, processing Nick's words in his fevered brain. He was so damn tired and hot and sweaty and in so much pain. He wanted to fight, but he could feel his body giving up and he knew it wouldn't be much longer before it quit all together. But he didn't want to worry Nick. "Okay," he rasped. "I'll try."

Nick grinned, squeezing Greg's hand before sitting up straight. "Morgan's out in the hall, I'm gonna send her in."

"Alright." Greg wiped his eyes and tried to get comfortable. Minutes later, Morgan stepped into the room with a sad, scared look on her features. She tried to smile for Greg's sake, but it was hard when she knew Greg might die. "Hey Greg."

He gave her a lopsided grin. He didn't want her to see him like this, but since he may never get another chance, he had to tell her how he felt. "Hey."

The younger woman sat down and sighed. The two stayed silent, not really knowing what to say. The only sound was of Greg's wet wheezing and the heart monitors. He soon cleared his throat, knowing his time was almost up. "Um, Morgan…I wanted to tell you something. I don't…I don't know if I'll make-"

"No…Greg please don't talk like that," Morgan cried, unable to hold back her tears and grabbing his hand. "Please don't talk like you're gonna die, because you're not."

He stared at her pitifully. "I'm sorry." God he was so fucking pathetic. "Morgan…" he weakly coughed a few times and after regaining his composure he spoke again, softer this time. "The second I met you, I thought you were the prettiest, hottest girl out there. You…you still are. No matter what you're doing, you're still beautiful. When you were in that…that helicopter, I felt so guilty for basically making you go. It should've been me…n-not you."

"Greg-"

"No…p-please. J-Just listen." Death was getting closer. Blood dripped out of his nose again, but he quickly wiped it away. "I don't know what I would do if something happened to you and every day I see you, you made me the happiest guy in the world." He gripped her hand. "I wish I had, had the guts to ask you out earlier," hot tears made their way onto his cheeks…or maybe it was blood. "Morgan, I love you so much."

"Greg," she sobbed. "No one has ever said stuff like that to me before. And I…I love you too. Please don't leave me. I want to go dates with you, get married to you, and maybe even have kids. You can't go, Greg. I love you so much and I can't bear to lose you."

He lifted up a trembling hand and cupped her cheek. "I promise…I'm gonna fight…for you, I'm gonna push through it."

Morgan chuckled through her tears. "You better."

The doctor suddenly cleared her throat and Morgan knew it was time to leave. She stood up and kissed Greg on the cheek. "I love you Greg."

"I love you, too Morgan." And now he finished what he needed to do. He could die in peace even though he didn't want to die at all. He just confessed his love to Morgan and found out she felt the same way and now his body was just gonna quit on him? He was supposed to leave his family? Fuck, this was so unfair. He watched Morgan's blurry figure walk away and knew this was going to kill her. He closed his eyes and took his last breath.

Just as Morgan reached the doorway, she heard a loud, single tone and her stomach dropped. Spinning around in fear, Greg's eyes were closed, his chest was immobile and the monitor above his head showed a flat green line.

"No." The man she loved was dead. "No!" She tried running back to him, but was quickly shoved back and out of the room. Nick had to restrain her and soon enough, she just gave in and started crying into his chest.

"Start up the paddles!" The doctor shouted.

Nick was crying too; he was watching his brother die right in front of him. "Come on, buddy. Please don't do this."

"Clear!"

Greg's body jerked with the electric shock, but nothing changed. Not for two minutes, not for five minutes…not even for seven minutes. The doctors were just about to call it when the beeping weakly started back up and Greg began to breathe again.

"Oh my god," Morgan whispered, collapsing on the floor and trying to calm down.

Nick willed his legs to keep him up, but his heart was pounding furiously in his chest. Greg had just died for seven minutes and the doctor had almost given up. He didn't even know what he would've done if they had stopped. He watched the nurses put in a couple more I.V's and a breathing tube down his throat. The doctor came out shortly after, a sad look on his face.

"Is he gonna be alright?" Nick stammered.

She shook her head. "The virus has died, but not before doing a lot of damage to his body. It's still highly likely he won't survive; we'll have him on the ventilator plus the antibiotics and fever reducers, but the next twenty-four hours are extremely critical."

Nick rubbed his forehead nervously, glancing down at a trembling Morgan, feeling distraught as well. He couldn't help but think that this would be the last time he'd talk to his friend. Greg was strong, but even the strongest person would have difficulties fighting this deadly virus. And he was right. Because the next time he went to the hospital, he got the news…the bad news. They didn't tell him, exactly, but he could see it on their faces. They were sorry. He walked faster down to the quarantine unit, breathing nervously. Something was wrong; the second he woke up this morning, he knew…he knew something bad had happened.

"Mr. Stokes, you don't want to go in there," a nurse said as he got to quarantine area.

"Why?"

The nurse remained silent, looking down at the floor. Not good. Nick burst through the doors and briskly walked through the plastic hallways. He was terrified of what he would be finding in Greg's room. He just rounded the corner when he heard the four dreaded words he'd never hope to hear.

"Time of death: 9:51am."

"No!" He heard a woman shout in anguish and he knew it was Morgan.

His heart dropped to the ground at what he saw. Morgan was thrown over Greg's unmoving body, sobbing hysterically and trying to get him to wake up. But he wouldn't. His face was a shade of gray, blood dribbling down his chin and nose, eyes bruised and lips purple. He was dead.

"Greg, please…please wake up," Morgan cried, brushing the strand of hair from his cold face. "Please don't leave me, Greg."

Nick dropped to his knees, having a hard time taking a deep breath. Greg was gone; his best friend, his little brother of fifteen years was dead and he wasn't coming back. He shouted angrily and bent forward, holding his head in his hands while letting the tears flow out of his eyes. He didn't know how or if he was gonna get through this.

**One Week Later**

It was Greg's funeral and it was quite a turnout. Greg would never know how loved he really was. A lot of the people he saved showed up, including Stanley Tanner; Catherine, Ray, and even Grissom came, to everyone's surprise. The team sat in the front row along with Greg's mom and dad; Morgan rest her head on Nick's shoulder, weeping softly. Nick was silently crying, wanting to be strong for Morgan and strong for Greg even though he wasn't there.

The priest said some words before they each went up to talk about their friend. Everyone had gone up besides Nick and Morgan. They wanted to, but it was too hard to do it alone.

"Come on. We can go together," he whispered to the blonde.

Morgan nodded and they locked arms while walking up to the altar. Inhaling shakily, Nick stared at the crowd and began to speak.

"Greg was my best friend…he was more than that; he was the little brother I never had. The first time I met him, I admit, I thought he was a little crazy and weird. But the more I talked to him, the more I knew his passion for science. And when he wanted to become a CSI and when he did become one, I was so proud of him. He had a goal and he achieved it. He didn't deserve what happened, his parent's didn't deserve to lose the only son they had and the team didn't deserve to lose a family member. Greg was the light of the lab…I don't know how we're ever gonna get over this. I hope Greg knew the kind of impact he had on other people's lives. He was the best CSI I knew." He wiped his nose and glanced down at Morgan who was staring into space. She looked worn out…like she hadn't slept in days.

"Morgan, do you want to say anything?"

She jerked out of her trance and nodded, moving closer to the microphone. "I-I loved Greg. He was an amazing man and I know now what it means when people say live everyday like it's your last. I wish I had asked him out sooner so we would've had more time together. Before he died, we told each other how we felt and I'm grateful I had that chance, but I still regret not telling him sooner. He was so selfless and caring, there was really no one like him. I miss him so much and like Nick said, he didn't deserve this. No one does."

After stepping down and the priest finished his sermon, they carried Greg's coffin outside and lowered it into the ground. Nick held Morgan tightly as they both cried. This wasn't supposed to happen. They always managed to get out of the trouble they found themselves with each dangerous case, but it goes to show that no one is invincible and everyone is vulnerable.

"Goodbye, Greggo," Nick whispered, rubbing his eyes as the dirt was put into the hole. "I'm gonna miss you buddy."

"How are we gonna get through this," Morgan sniffed, feeling numb inside. The man she loved was gone and she didn't know if she'd ever be the same again. No, she _knew_ she would never be the same again.

"I don't know, M," Nick replied, hugging his surrogate sister tightly. "I really don't know."

**THE END**

* * *

**A/N: I know I know! I hate myself for killing him, but I didn't know how else to end it :'( anyways, I hoped you liked it! Need more reviews! Reviews are motivation!**

**Next Prompt:****_ Marymel_**

**_Anonymous (1)_**

**_Marymel_**

**_CamilaAlgo_**

**_feelingsplosion_**

**_Meggysmeg_**

**_SandieBrody_**

**_Anonymous and Guest_**

**_Ashley_**

**_Srta McLean_**

**_Guest (2)_**

**_Tadaa_**

**_Leggomygreggo_**

**_Hadley_**

**_Caprice_**

_**Kalisberg**_

_**Marymel**_

_**SandieBrody**_

_**Guest (3)**_

_**Mandy**_

**Added Since Last Prompt:**

**Meggysmeg**

**CamilaAlgo**


	9. Snow Day

**Snow Day**

**Prompt for: Marymel**

**CSI LV version of CSI NY's 'Snow Day' Episode**

**No death this time! ;) **

**Enjoy!**

Greg grumbled as he got out of his Denali and headed for the crime scene that _Nick_ was supposed to be at first. Instead, the guy said he'd be late because he had some "personal business" to take care of. But _he_ knew the Texan had probably shacked up with some blonde, got drunk and was now super hungover. Just the thought of it made him roll his eyes; he was gonna make Nick pay for this. Knowing that there was nothing that he could do about it right now, Greg headed towards the warehouse where the LVPD had just finished a huge drug bust, arresting a bunch of Irish mobsters. It was weird that there were no other officers here to watch the scene, but assumed they were probably busy at the station and would come out soon. He tightly gripped the handle of his kit and pushed open the door, unprepared at what was about to happen next.

**One Hour Later**

Nick grinned goofily as he got out of his car, heading to the crime scene he and Greg were going to work on…but knowing the blonde, he might already be done by now…and pissed at him for not coming when he was supposed to. He would have to make it up to him somehow, maybe trade shifts or something. He walked into the warehouse, the door wide open and frowned when he saw how empty and quiet it was. A feeling at the pit of his stomach told him something was seriously wrong…and then when he saw Greg's kit, unattended, spilled on the ground, his bad feeling was confirmed.

"Greg?"

Silence.

"Greg!" He put down his kit and pulled out his gun, quietly making his way across the floor. He walked behind the abandoned 18-wheeler, his footsteps and breathing the only sound in the large room. It was _way_ too quiet. Cigarette butts were strewn all over the floor and he began to think the worse. He raised his gun higher, prepared for an attack, but he wasn't prepared for one from behind. He reached the back opening of the truck and saw Greg, a swollen, bloodier version of him, inside and propped up against the wall.

"Nick! Look out!"

However, before he could react, something hit him on the back of the head and a white blinding pain erupted through his skull before his legs collapsed underneath him and his world went black. The next thing he knew, he was being thrown against Greg along with two other police officers that were handcuffed to a bar above them. He could feel the younger CSI trembling next to him, so he was either hurting, scared or both. Glancing up from his laying position, he saw Greg looking at him, fear in his brown eyes…or eye. His left one was purple and swollen shut. Dried blood ran down his face and neck and on his leg from wounds he couldn't see and there were little red circular marks on his shaking hands.

"Greg."

"N-Nick. I-I'm sorry," he choked.

"For what?"

"Shut up!" A masked man shouted, shoving a gun in Greg's face.

"Hey! Get that away from him," Nick growled, sitting up a little.

The mobster brandished the gun in his face before turning away to talk to the other masked man. Licking his lips, Nick carefully pulled out his phone and tried to hide it by hunching over. He was only halfway through the text when he heard footsteps behind him and the butt of a gun came smashing down on his fingers.

"Ah!" He cradled it close to his chest, biting back the tears and curse words. He was roughly pushed against the wall, the gun dangerously close to his face.

"No more dumb moves, understand?"

"What the hell do you want?" He said, shaking with anger. "The drugs aren't here."

The man remained silent, but crushed the phone underneath his steel-toed boot. "If you do anything to piss me off again, I'll kick the kid's ass," he said, pointing to Greg. "After being the pain he was earlier, I'd really like to torture him some more."

Greg whimpered and Nick's heart nearly stopped. _Greg had been tortured?_ Well, that explained the used pile of cigarettes and the burn marks on the kid.

"Don't fucking touch him or I swear to god."

"You swear to god what, huh Tex? Who's got the guns?"

Nick ground his teeth but kept his mouth shut.

"Exactly." But there was something between the two CSI's that the mobster saw; he didn't know what it was, but he knew he could use it to his advantage. The Texan was protective of the blonde. This will be a lot more fun than it was going to be.

~+CSI+~

"Greggo, what did they do to you?" Nick whispered, inspecting Greg's wounds.

"I-I came in to s-started processing the s-scene," Greg shivered. "I was k-kicked down and they st-started to tortured m-me. Bu-burned me…cut me…stabbed me; he said he'd only stop w-when I gave…gave him what they wanted."

The second that Greg said stabbed, Nick realized why Greg's leg was bleeding so badly.

"God, buddy." He pressed down on it to staunch the blood, but Greg tensed and jerked away. "Sorry, man, sorry."

"S'okay. Just r-really hurts."

"What did they want?"

Greg glanced over and gave Nick a sad look. "M'so sorry Nick, I'm sorry. I had no choice…they were gonna kill me…I'm so weak, I broke too quickly. I'm sorry."

"Greg, shh, easy bud," he said when Greg was becoming agitated. "It's okay. Now what were they asking for?"

"T-They wanted…they wanted my I.D. and the passcodes to the parking garage and the lab. God, this is all my fault."

"No, G, it's not your fault, okay?"

Greg swallowed. It was his fault no matter how many times Nick tried to say otherwise. Tears ran down his stinging face, feeling stupid for going into the scene without backup. He should've known something was up when he didn't see the officers.

"Nick, they wanted to know where their drugs and guns were," he added with a wheeze. He was pretty sure a couple of his ribs were broken too.

"Shit." How were they gonna warn the lab? He looked out at the mobsters who were talking and then a thought came to mind. "Greg, what's in your kit buddy?"

"Huh?" He coughed, blood splattering on his lips. "What are you talking about?"

"Your kit, what do you got?"

"It's all the way over there."

"I know, but what's in it?" Nick snapped, though not meaning to be too harsh.

"Uh, presumptive b-blood tests kits, narco test kits-"

"Test kits; that means you got Marquis Reagent?"

Greg looked at Nick quizzically.

"Sulfuric Acid. I'm gonna need you to get it."

Greg shook his head fearfully. He knew he was being pathetic but he was hurting and didn't really want to end up dead today. It wasn't what he had in mind when he woke up this morning. "They'll kill me."

"They won't kill us, we're leverage."

Greg shivered and Nick cupped his neck with his uninjured hand. "Greg, I know you're scared, man. I'm scared too, but if you want to get out of this, you gotta trust me. Do you trust me?"

Greg pursed his lips, but nodded. "Okay, but how am I supposed to get it?"

"I'm gonna create a diversion."

"Wait," Greg said before Nick got up. "I'll do it. You get the stuff."

"What? No Greg."

"They already see me as a weak target and anything you do with set them on me anyways. I'll distract them."

"Greg-" But before he had a chance to say another word, Greg shot up and limped out of the truck.

"Hey assholes!" Greg shouted, catching the mobster's attention as he ran for the opposite end of the warehouse. They followed after him and Nick saw this as his cue to go. He quietly jumped out and made his way over to Greg's kit, grabbing the things he needed before rushing back to the truck.

"Stop!" The mobster growled and shoved Greg down against a crate before striking the blonde in the face with the butt of his gun.

"Where do you think you're going?" The mobster said in a thick Irish accent.

"I was just…I was just going to get s-some air," Greg heaved.

The mobster chuckled humorlessly before brutally hitting Greg in the stomach, causing him to fall to his knees, trembling in agony.

"Get this scrawny, pretty boy a mic," the mobster said. "Cause he's got a lot of funny in him. I told your friend not to make any dumb moves but it seems that you do them all on your own."

Greg pressed up against the crate, blood dribbling from his mouth. He clutched his pulsing ribs and grinned. "You two idiots just hijacked the crime scene cleanup. Makes me believe that…when they went to gentrify…Hell's Kitchen, they got rid of all the smart tough guys."

The butt of the gun came down on him again, smashing the side of his head and causing him to black out for a split second. Pain exploded in his skull and he began to see stars; before he was able to get up again, the mobster roughly grasped his hair and ripped his head back.

"Now you're gonna make a phone call, funny man, to the LVPD telling that you're being held hostage." A phone was pressed against his ear, it already ringing.

_"Brass."_

"Jim…hey it's…its Greg. We got a problem."

_"Kid, you okay? You don't sound so good."_

"Nick and I…we're being held hostage at the crime scene…where the drug bust…took place." He was fading in and out, barely able to keep is eyes open. The phone was taken away before Brass was able to say another word but Greg knew they would be rescued soon. His eyes flickered close and he succumbed to the darkness.

Nick was starting to get worried when Greg wasn't coming back, but finally he saw the two mobsters carrying the blonde's limp body and carelessly throwing him inside. Nick crawled over when the men turned away and brought Greg into his arms. He was bleeding a lot more and his face was becoming purple and swollen.

"Greg? Greggo come on, wake up."

The younger man suddenly gasped, his eyes snapping open and frantically struggling in Nick's arms.

"Greg, easy bud. You're okay, I got you."

"N-Nick?"

"Yeah. You alright?"

Greg remained silent, trying to get his breathing under control while keeping himself conscious. He was in so much pain, but he wasn't about to tell Nick that…not until they got out of this anyways. He started choking on his own blood and Nick sat him up, patting his back gently. "I c-called Brass."

"What?" Nick frowned.

"They told me to…to call the police. They're…they're on their way."

"They let you call the cops? Something isn't right. But we're gonna be out of here. I promise. I have the sulfuric acid ready…it'll be over soon."

~+CSI+~

It wasn't long before they heard the sirens outside the building and the mobster talking to Brass on the radio. Greg and Nick were on separate sides of the truck now so they could carry out the plan; when the mobster hopped into the back, he went straight for Greg who was huddled in the corner. The second the man touched Greg's back, the blonde sprang into action, splashing the acid into the mobsters face and giving Nick the chance to attack him from behind and knock him out. The other mobster came running, gun raised and managing to get a shot off before Nick grabbed the discarded pistol and shot him in the leg.

They heard the warehouse doors slide open and shouts from the SWAT team. Earlier, the mobsters had dressed the real police officers in the jumpsuits, strapping machine guns to their hands, taping their mouths shut and pulling a mask over their head while they, themselves, were disguised as the police officers. While Nick was subduing the mobsters, Greg ignored the pain in his entire body and limped out to save the cops before they were killed by the cavalry.

"Put the guns down now!" Brass shouted, raising his gun. "Now!"

"Stop! Don't shoot!" He shouted hoarsely. "They're cops!" He pulled off the mask and tape from one of the officer's mouth before everyone started to stow their weapons away.

"Greg, you look like shit," Brass said, coming up to him. "You alright?"

Greg nodded jerkily but truth was, he knew he was going to pass out any second now. His leg was on fire, especially his side which was weird, because it didn't hurt that much before. Come to think of it, it was feeling wet and sticky now. Glancing down, he noticed a dark red stain was soaking through his tattered shirt. When he pressed down on it, it squelched and he hissed in pain. Had he been shot? When did that happen?

"Greg!" _Nick._

He turned around, swaying on his feet, drowsily blinking at the Texan. "N-Nick?" His head, face, body…_everything_ was pulsing angrily and it was too overwhelming for him.

"Oh my god, Greg." Nick stared at his friend. He looked like he went five rounds with Mike Tyson…and then there was a blood spot getting bigger on his shirt. "Were you shot?"

Before Greg could get a word out, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his legs gave out underneath him. "Greg!" Nick ran over just in time to catch Greg before he hit the ground, ignoring the pain in his broken hand.

"I need medics!" He shouted while cradling the younger man's quivering body in his arms. Blood soaked into his own clothes, but that only scared him. The mobster must've hit Greg when he got off that shot. He hovered his ear over Greg's and realized the kid was barely breathing. "Fuck. Hurry up!" He brushed back the kid's sweaty bangs and felt a surge of pride in his chest. He didn't know why Greg always put himself down, calling himself weak and thinking everything bad happens because of him. He was far from weak; he definitely proved that today and he was going to tell him that. Once the paramedics strapped Greg onto a gurney, Nick followed them into the ambulance. His hand no longer hurt, but he knew that was probably not a good thing.

"He's gonna be okay, right?" He asked as the ambulance drove off and the medic placed an oxygen mask over Greg's mouth.

"Hard to say. He's lost a lot of blood already; he's just lucky the stab wound in his leg didn't hit an artery. Now let my partner look at your hand, its swelling up pretty bad."

Grumbling, Nick sat back and let the medic take his hand, but he wouldn't keep his eyes off his friend. His _dying_ friend. "Don't quit on me, buddy." He reached over and rested his hand on Greg's arm…the only place where it didn't seem like he had been injured. "Please don't give up."

**Five Hours Later**

Nick sat by Greg's bedside, watching him sleep and occasionally glancing down at the kid's I.D. that was covered in blood. Catherine had brought it in earlier after hearing what happened; apparently the entire hostage situation was just a distraction for the police so they would come to them and leave the lab. There had been a supposed gas leak in the building that forced everyone to evacuate, but Catherine and Ray knew it wasn't and stayed behind. The gas company ended up being the more of the Irish mob and that's why they needed Greg's I.D and the location of the drugs and guns. Eventually they had taken them all down and arrested the ones that were living and got out of the lab.

"You did good, buddy," he said to the unconscious CSI. "Don't you ever think otherwise."

"How's he doing?" A voice said behind him. Nick turned and saw Catherine standing in the doorway before stepping in.

"Better." His face was black and blue and still a bit swollen…a bit like he had looked after the beating three years ago. God, he prayed this wouldn't bring up bad memories. Greg didn't need it after all this crap. The bullet had been a flesh wound, thankfully, and an easy thing to patch up as was the stab wound. He would have scars from the cigarette burns and Nick really wanted to kill the guys that did this. Greg didn't need any more scars. Not after the lab explosion. Greg had done a good job at hiding the marks on his back, but one night after a case, he had walked in the locker room while Greg was changing his shirt and saw them.

_"Oh my god. Greg."_

_"Nick!" Greg frantically tried to put his shirt back on, but even when he did, he knew it was too late. "Nick don't…don't look at me like that."_

_ "Like what, G?" He said softly, moving into the room. Greg moved back, trying to get away._

_ "Like I'm a freak. I know I am." He wiped his eyes and tried to rush past the Texan, but he wasn't quick enough. Nick grabbed his arms and stopped him._

_ "Greg, you're not a freak. Are those…are those from the explosion?"_

_ The blonde stared down at the floor but nodded, his cheeks wet with silent tears._

_ "God, why didn't you say anything?" He sat Greg down and he did the same, keeping his hand on the blonde's shoulder._

_ "Catherine was already feeling guilty…I didn't want her to feel any worse."_

_ "Greggo…you don't have to be alone through this. Don't let those scars define who you are okay?" He brought the younger man into a tight hug. Greg's shoulders shook, wracked with tears and it made Nick's heart break. "I'm sorry buddy. I'm so sorry."_

"N-Nick?"

The Texan was brought out of his thoughts at the small voice, looking up to see groggy brown eyes staring back at him. A wide smile broke out on Nick's face. "Hey bud. It's good to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

Greg remained silent, scanning the room and realizing he was in the hospital. Clearing his throat, he turned back to Nick. "Everything…hurts."

Nick pursed his lips sadly. "I know, G. I can get a nurse in here to up your meds." He pressed the button and they waited. "Do you remember what happened?"

"S-Sort of. S'all kinda foggy." He squeezed his eyes shut, his head pounding as he tried to remember all the details.

"You know it wasn't your fault right?" Nick said, causing Greg to reopen his eyes.

"Nick-"

"Did you need something?" A nurse interrupted.

"Could you give him more pain medication? He's in a lot of pain."

"Of course." She disappeared for a moment and Greg stared down at his hands while Nick watched him. Why did the kid always think things was his fault? He was about to say something when the nurse came back in with a syringe; in seconds, she injected the morphine into his I.V and Greg seemed to relax. Once she left, Nick sighed.

"Greg, you couldn't have known."

The blonde still wouldn't look up. "I _should've_ Nick; there was no backup around and I should've known something was wrong."

"Greg, I went in too without making sure. Had I been the first one there, I probably would've gotten taken down too. If it was anyone's fault, it was mine for not being at the scene when I was supposed to. I'm sorry man. It should've been me not you."

Greg looked up, tears shining in his eyes. "I broke too easily. I was weak."

"Greg, stop," Nick said, gently grabbing Greg's hand. "Just stop. You are far from being weak; they were fucking torturing you, I would've broke too. I'm not always as tough as I look you know."

Greg chuckled, wiping his eyes. "I don't know how I'm gonna get through this. I wish I could say it wasn't as worse as the beatings, but it was. I really thought I was gonna die in there."

"You know I wouldn't let that happen; they'd have to get past me first, trust me. Though, I thought that was a pretty brave but stupid move distracting those guys. I was scared they really were gonna hurt you…I mean worse than what they already did."

Greg swallowed and weakly smiled at Nick. "Thanks."

The Texan frowned. "For what, bud?"

The blonde shrugged, his eyes starting to close; the meds were starting to kick in. "For being here for me…and for being my friend."

"Greggo, you're like a brother to me. I'll do anything to protect you…don't forget that, alright?"

"Okay," Greg yawned, sinking back into the bed.

Things were gonna get better. Nick was gonna make sure of it.

**FIN**

**Next Prompt for:****_ Anonymous (1)_**

**_Marymel_**

**_CamilaAlgo_**

**_feelingsplosion_**

**_Meggysmeg_**

**_SandieBrody_**

**_Anonymous and Guest_**

**_Ashley_**

**_Srta McLean_**

**_Guest (2)_**

**_Tadaa_**

**_Leggomygreggo_**

**_Hadley_**

**_Caprice_**

_**Kalisberg**_

_**Marymel**_

_**SandieBrody**_

_**Guest (3)**_

_**Mandy**_

**Added Since Last Prompt:**

**Meggysmeg**

**CamilaAlgo**

**_Guest (4)_**

**_Marymel_**

**_Anon (2)_**

**_Unicorn_**

**_Guest (5)_**

**_Meanxruki _**


	10. Temperature

**Temperature**

**Prompt for Anon**

Greg stumbled out of his car, his joints and bones aching like never before. He felt like shit and that was probably an understatement. For the past couple of days he hadn't been feeling well, but he had been trying to hide it the best he could…today, though, he didn't think he'd be able to. He barely could get out of bed this morning and wanted to call out, but there was a pile of evidence he needed to get through by the end of his shift. After clocking in, he trudged to the locker room and collapsed on the bench, resting his head in his hands. _Only twelve hours…just get through twelve hours, Sanders._

"Hey G. Whoa, you alright buddy?" _Great. It was Nick._

He lifted his head and blinked up at the Texan. "Yeah, I'm just tired. Haven't been getting much sleep lately." _Getting seven hours of sleep out of five days would probably do that to you._

Nick gave him a wary glance before he put his things away in his locker. "Okay, see you later. Grissom gave Warrick and me a huge case. We're probably gonna be at the crime scene for hours…in the sun."

Greg smirked. Normally, he would wish he was going to a scene, because he really wanted to be a CSI, but not today. Today, he was glad to be shacked up in the air-conditioned building. "Have fun with that."

Nick snorted and then exited the room, leaving Greg alone once more. The smile disappeared from his face and a small groan escaped past his lips. A big scene meant a lot of evidence. And a lot of evidence meant overtime. He was not going to survive this day. After taking in a shaky breath, the blonde pushed himself up and slowly made his way to his lab, dreading the upcoming hours. He prayed it would go by fast.

But it didn't. Two hours had passed and not much had gotten done. He was barely able to keep his eyes open and more than once, he found himself resting his head on the table. He was surprised Ecklie hadn't fired him yet. His pile of evidence wasn't getting any smaller and he knew it was gonna get worse when Warrick and Nick came back. Just the thought of it made him groan. Once he put in another DNA sample into the machine, he propped his cheek on his fist and watched the computer search through the database. The pictures flashed through his eyes and it started lulling him to sleep. Maybe closing his eyes for a few minutes wouldn't hurt. Burying his head in his arms, Greg closed his eyes and dozed off. It felt like he had only been sleeping for five minutes when he felt a finger tap his back. And the gentle touch felt like he was being poked by an iron rod. With a sharp hiss, he shot up from the desk, breathing heavily.

"Easy, tiger it's just me."

Greg looked next to him, seeing Nick and Warrick staring at him uneasily.

"Oh…hey. When did you guys get here?" He asked, rubbing his eyes and trying to hide the burning pain in his shoulders.

"Just a few minutes ago," Warrick said, eyeing the pile of evidence besides the blonde. He had seen it earlier and it looked as if the stack hadn't lessened a bit. "You shouldn't be sleeping on the job, kid. If Ecklie sees you, you'll get an earful."

"Yeah…yeah I know," he sighed. "I just…I haven't been feeling well."

Nick set his stuff down and went over to Greg, placing a hand on his forehead. "You don't feel warm. Buddy, if you're hungover you could just take an Advil or something," the Texan ended with a chuckle. "Now you know, though, that drinking with a lady before a work shift probably isn't a good idea."

Greg rolled his eyes and grumbled. "Yeah, you're probably right." Even though the older man wasn't. Obviously they didn't believe him and they wouldn't unless he had a raging fever or passed out on the floor.

Nick smirked. "Well, here's my evidence. I hope you can get all this stuff done by the end of shift; I was gonna invite you to come watch the game at the bar with Warrick and I."

"Yeah…I hope so too." But even if he did finish, he would rather go home and sleep than be at a noisy, crowded bar.

"Shout when you have something," Nick said as he and Warrick walked out of the lab.

When the two disappeared, Greg sagged in his chair and glared at his work pile. He was going to die; he'd rather just tell Grissom he's sick and go home, but then Nick would find out and probably tell the supervisor he was just "faking it" which he sure as hell wasn't. Massaging his stiff neck, Greg sat forward, rubbed his eyes and got back to work…as long as he could anyways.

~+CSI+~

An hour passed and miraculously he got half his pile done when his body started to ache more than ever. He was hot, then cold, then hot again; his head was pounding and the words on the paper before him kept blurring. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead and his stomach rolled. Yeah…he was sick. He had to be. Tightening his lips, Greg jumped from his chair and rushed to the bathroom. Thankfully there was no one else inside and he went straight for the first stall, falling to his knees and puking what little he had eaten in the past week. His body trembled violently, his back stung and his fever rose dramatically. When he was finished, Greg wiped his mouth and gripped the seat of the toilet to push himself up. He took one step out of the stall and his world tilted, the floor slipping out from underneath his feet. He fell to the ground, his breathing labored and deep. His eyelids felt like they were being held down by weights and he prayed that someone would find him soon before his body fried up. Letting out one last deep exhale, his eyes closed and his world faded into a fiery darkness.

Nick walked down the hall towards Greg's lab. Surely the kid would be done with his evidence by now right? But then again, Greg seemed a little off his game today which wasn't like him. Maybe he really was sick? He turned the corner and looked up to see that the room was empty.

"Greg?" He stepped in, saw the computer going but didn't see the younger man around anywhere. Frowning, he was just about to check the break room when he heard someone shouting for help. His heart leapt into his throat and he ran down the hallway towards the bathroom where the voice was coming from. A bunch of other people were crowded around the door and he pushed through them, stopping at the sight before him. Hodges was kneeling next to Greg who was lying on his side and unmoving.

"What happened?" He breathed, getting next to them and bringing Greg's limp body in his arms. "Jesus." Heat was radiating off his body like a furnace. Where did this fever come from? He seemed fine an hour ago. "Greg. Greggo, can you hear me?" He brushed back the kid's sweaty bangs and knew that this was really bad. Especially since he wasn't even rousing. "Did anyone call an ambulance?"

"Yeah," Mandy said, appearing from the crowd. "And I brought a thermometer. It looks like his fever might be pretty high."

Nick took it from her and placed the device in Greg's ear. When it beeped, his heart dropped. _105.4°. _"Shit." He gathered the blonde into his arms and stood up. "Move! Get out of the way!" He shouted at the techs and they separated to let him by. He held Greg's head close to his chest as he sprinted to the locker room showers. The kid's fever was so high, his skin felt like fire. Why didn't he see this before? Going to the back, Nick got into the closest shower and turned it on, setting it to cold. Keeping Greg cradled in his arms, he sat down under the spray, not caring that he was also getting soaked in the process

"You're gonna be okay, bud," he whispered, listening to Greg's barely existent, scratchy breathing. He was really worried; why wasn't anything happening? Wouldn't the cold water wake him up by now? Nick prayed he wasn't too late. It was when Greg's head lolled on his chest did he see the red rash climbing up his neck. His forehead creased and he pulled down the collar of the blonde's shirt past his shoulder. "Oh god." It looked like it went all the way down his back. What the hell was going on with this kid? He held Greg tighter, blinking the water out of his eyes…water that splashed onto the younger man's emotionless, pale face. The ambulance really needed to get a move on before Greg's brain fried. The water wasn't gonna stall the fever forever.

~+C+~

When the medics finally arrived, Greg was taken from Nick's arms and placed on the gurney. Nick refused to let Greg go through this alone, so he joined them in the ambulance. Once in the privacy of the vehicle, Greg's wet clothes were cut off and cooling blankets were placed over his body. Before they were, though, Nick got a glimpse of the rash that seemed to spread down his chest.

"Temperature 105.7 and rising. If it gets near 106, he's going to need an ice bath upon arrival."

Nick swore underneath his breath. Greg's fever rose despite his efforts to cool him off. The water barely did anything to help. He should've believed the kid when he said he wasn't feeling well…what kind of friend was he?

"What's wrong with him?" He asked after the medic, Adam, placed an oxygen mask over Greg's mouth.

"It looks a lot like meningitis," Adam replied. "We won't be able to tell which kind, either bacterial or viral, until we do a spinal tap. Bacterial is worse, so we just have to pray for the best."

The Texan wiped his mouth and gazed at Greg, his skin flushed and sweaty. He reached over and placed his hand over Greg's, clutching it gently. Meningitis was a serious illness and it made him wonder how long Greg had been feeling this ill. Sure he had been a little slow and tired, but he just chalked that up to not getting enough sleep or drinking too much…not this.

"Shit…temperature at 105.9. What's the ETA?!"

"Two minutes!" The driver shouted back.

"Have an emergency team ready with an ice bath ready. We can't waste any more time."

When they finally reached the hospital, Greg was immediately taken away, leaving Nick by himself in the waiting room. He had to admit that he was really scared right now; Greg was sick and he had failed to acknowledge that. He made a joke out of it. Now they were both gonna have to face the consequences.

~+C+~

He was on fire…at least it felt like he was. Maybe he had died and gone to hell, despite his efforts of being a good person. Groaning hoarsely, he felt hands touching his face, arms and legs. He couldn't think straight, his brain quickly shutting off; what the hell was going on? The hands on his arms and legs tightened their grip and he felt like he was flying before landing in ice cold water. _What the fuck!_ He gasped wildly, his eyes flying open and skimming the room frantically. Where was he? What happened? Wasn't he just at the lab?

"Easy Greg, just take it easy," a soft voice said. "You're at the hospital."

Shivering violently, he glanced to his right to see a blonde woman swimming into view. He blinked a couple times to focus, but it didn't do much. "W-W-What ha-happened?"

"You have meningitis, but we had to cool you down before your fever got too high."

His chest heaved. He had to admit the water felt good at first, but he was really starting to get cold…and nauseous. The ache in his back was returning and he could no longer control his shivering.

"M'cold," he slurred, fighting to keep his eyes open and the watery bile from reaching his mouth. His head fell back against the basin and he moaned in agitation. "Don't…f-feel good." He faded in and out of consciousness and the words spoken around him became muffled.

"Take…out…to get…spinal tap."

_Spinal tap._ He knew what those were. Giant needles being stabbed deep into his back and there was always a risk of something bad happening. _Paralysis._ Just the thought of it made him queasy and he could no longer hold back. He began to struggle in the nurse's hold, wanting to get the hell away from them. He didn't want this spinal tap. He didn't like needles. But the sickness seemed to get the best of him and lurching forward, Greg expelled whatever was left in his stomach.

"Let's get him out," the doctor said urgently. "We need to find out what sort of meningitis this is so we can treat it."

"Yes doctor," the nurses replied. And just as they were about to lift him out, Greg's body began to twitch aggressively.

"He's seizing! Get him out!" The doctor watched as the blonde was lifted from the bath and placed onto an awaiting bed. They had to do this spinal tap soon or the kid was going to be in a lot of trouble.

~+CSI+~

Nick's leg bounced nervously as he sat in the waiting room. Forty-five minutes had already passed and there was no news on his friend. What if something went wrong? What if Greg's condition got worse? Rubbing his hands on his thighs, Nick stood up and paced the room. He was just about to go start kicking down doors when a woman in a lab coat stepped through the doors.

"Nick Stokes, here for Gregory Sanders?"

He sighed in relief, but he still wasn't completely relaxed. "Is he okay?"

"He's stabilizing now. We had a few complications at first, though."

Nick frowned. "Complications? What complications?"

"He had a seizure just before we took him out of the ice bath. But like I said, he's stabilizing, the fever is gradually going down. It's definitely meningitis, but we haven't done the spinal tap yet since we had to make sure there would be no more impending seizures. If you would like to come sit with him, it might be better because he was pretty agitated the last time he woke up."

"Sure." Anything to see his little brother. He followed the doctor to a small operation room and saw Greg lying on his side, eyes closed and breathing heavily like he had just run a marathon. He had a gown on, but the back was open, so his spine was exposed. And regardless of his ice bath, he still had a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"Is he awake?" He asked the doctor while sitting on a stool by the blonde's head.

"He should be, we didn't sedate him."

Nick nodded and looked at his friend sadly. "Greg? Greggo, can you hear me?"

It took a moment, but Greg's eyelids peeled open, showing glassy brown orbs. "N-Nick?"

The Texan grinned. Resting a hand on the kid's arm. "Hey buddy. How are you feeling?"

"Like crap. W-What are you d-doing here?" He swallowed. "Shouldn't you be…at work?"

"Nah. I wanted to make sure you were okay. The doc is gonna give you a spinal tap."

Greg closed his eyes. "Don't want one."

"You need one bud. They need to see how sick you are."

The younger man groaned. "This s-sucks."

"I know man, I know. It'll be over before you know it, I promise." He glanced over Greg's body to see the doctor readying the needle. And it was big. But Greg didn't need to know that. He looked back down to see Greg staring tiredly at him and the older man smiled. "I'll be right here, kid. Just keep looking at me. You can hold my hand if you want, okay?"

Greg gave him a small smile and nodded. "'Kay."

The doctor came over and rubbed some iodine on Greg's back. "You're gonna feel a small pinch, okay Greg?"

"Mmhm."

"And Nick, make sure he doesn't move."

The cold needle pressed against his back before piercing his skin. The blonde tensed and whimpered, causing Nick to take Greg's hand, the kid's nails instantly digging into his skin.

"Deep breaths, G."

Greg did as he was told, closing his eyes. He was exhausted…completely sapped of all his energy and he wanted to sleep. As if Nick read his mind, he felt a cool hand on his forehead.

"Go to sleep, buddy. I'll be here when you wake up."

The blonde didn't reopen his eyes. "You'll stay?"

"Of course. Just relax."

In seconds, Greg's body went slack and his grip on Nick's hand loosened. The Texan sighed, rubbing Greg's knuckles with his thumb. God, the kid sounded so young and vulnerable when he was sick.

"He's gonna be okay, right?"

The doctor extracted the needle, clear fluid now filling up the syringe. She passed it off to a nurse and then turned back to Nick. "I hope so. The fever has gone down a little, but not as much as I'd like. Once we find out what kind of meningitis he has he'll be better I hope; with bacterial it requires a lot more intravenous antibiotics along with some other cortisone medications to reduce the risk of brain swelling or more seizures. With viral, it's a little less threatening, only needing antibiotics for the fever and rash. Other than that, it will most likely cure on its own over the course of several weeks. I'll let you know more once we get his tests back. Until then, we'll put him in a private room so he can rest."

Nick bobbed his head and watched as Greg was wheeled away from him once more.

Forty-five minutes later found Nick sitting by his friend's bed, watching him breathe in and out steadily. The Texan felt a lot better now that he knew the meningitis was only viral and not bacterial. An I.V was protruding from the under a bandage on the back of his left hand, giving him fluids while another one was poked in the middle of his right arm for the fever reducer medication. His face was still rosy however his fever was progressively going down which made Nick feel a lot better.

"I'm proud of you buddy, for pulling through. Just keep fighting a little bit longer and it will all be over." He squeezed the kid's fingers before standing up to go let the others how things were going.

Throughout the next couple of days, the team came and went, Greg drifted in and out of consciousness. Nick never left even though Greg barely recognized him; he would wake up for a minute and look around. Nick would always greet him, hoping the kid would respond, but he just stared at him before his eyes could no longer stay open. By the third morning, Greg's fever finally broke and he was looking a lot better. There was a dark bruise on the back of his hand from where the I.V had been, but he no longer needed the fluids since he was improving. Nick was watching a baseball game on the provided TV with the sound muted when Greg stirred.

"W-Where am I?" Greg whispered hoarsely, getting Nick attention.

The Texan spun around and smiled. "Hey, buddy. You're at the hospital after you passed out in the lab a few days ago. Do you remember what happened?"

Greg shook his head. "Not really," he coughed and Nick grabbed a cup of water, helping him take a couple sips. Once he was finished, the blonde sat up a little, wiping his mouth. "All I remember was being in the lab. After that, everything is blank."

Nick pursed his lips sadly, shifting in his chair. "You had meningitis. The fever was bad but…it was only viral meningitis. You're okay now."

Greg nodded. "So…I passed out in the lab, huh? How many people saw?"

"Pretty much everybody. Actually, Hodges was the one who found you."

"Great…I'll never hear the end of it from him or anyone at the lab."

"G, there's no need to be embarrassed," Nick chuckled and the sobered up. "I should've believed you when you said you were feeling sick, though. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Greg smiled weakly. He was still pretty exhausted. "_I_ didn't even know…it just felt like a cold…didn't think it would be something so serious."

Nick grinned. "Well, I'm glad you're okay, Greggo. And no one will make fun of you; if they do, I'll kick their ass."

Greg laughed. "I don't doubt that…thanks, Nick."

The older man grinned, patting Greg's arm. "You're welcome. Just don't scare me like that again, alright?"

"Promise…where are the others?"

Right on cue, Catherine, Sara, Warrick and even Grissom filed into the room.

"Hey sweetie," Catherine grinned, coming up to the bed and kissing him on the head. "How are you feeling?"

"A lot better."

"We come bearing gifts," Sara said brightly, holding up a CD player, some movies, and a couple of get well cards."

"We would've brought your Blue Hawaiian coffee, but we don't know where you hid it…plus caffeine probably wouldn't be good for you right now anyways."

Greg smirked. "I'll never give up my hiding spot."

"Of course you won't," Catherine rolled her eyes but laughed.

"You should see the pile of evidence on your desk though," Warrick said. "I can't even _see_ the desk, so you're definitely gonna need that coffee, kid."

Greg paled. "What?" He was gonna be backlogged for the rest of his days.

The team burst out laughing at his reaction.

"I'm joking, buddy," Warrick snickered, shaking Greg's shoulder. "We all pitched in and got it done for you. Look at it as a welcome back present."

After a second, the younger man seemed to relax. "Don't fricken scare me like that," he breathed.

"Sorry, I had to take the opportunity."

Greg rolled his eyes. Looking at his surrogate family with a smile. He hadn't felt the caring and warmth from a family since he moved from his mom's five years ago. It was a good feeling and he knew he would be here to stay. This was his home now.

**FIN**

**Next Prompt for:****_ Just Me_**

**_Marymel_**

**_CamilaAlgo_**

**_feelingsplosion_**

**_Meggysmeg_**

**_SandieBrody_**

**_Anonymous and Guest_**

**_Ashley_**

**_Srta McLean_**

**_Guest (2)_**

**_Tadaa_**

**_Leggomygreggo_**

**_Hadley_**

**_Caprice_**

_**Kalisberg**_

_**Marymel**_

_**SandieBrody**_

_**Guest (3)**_

_**Mandy**_

**Meggysmeg**

**CamilaAlgo**

**_Guest (4)_**

**_Marymel_**

**_Anon (2)_**

**_Unicorn_**

**_Guest (5)_**

**_Meanxruki _**

**Kitties**


	11. Abusive

**Abusive**

_**Prompt for: Just Me: Greg gets abused by a coworker**_

**Enjoy!**

Everyone liked the temporary CSI filling in for Sara, Richard Tylers, except for Greg. It wasn't right off, at first the blonde thought he was kind of cool, like another Nick. But the guy acted weird towards him and it was only when no one was around. When people _were_ around, he would be over the top nice, but alone…that was another story. He didn't know why the guy hated him so much, he seemed to get along just fine with Nick and Warrick and the other lab techs. Maybe something was wrong with him. He tried to get on the man's good side, but that made it worse apparently. So now Greg's goal was to steer clear of him.

"Hey Greggo," Rich said in a chilling voice as he entered the break room. It was just him and Greg.

The blonde turned around, grinding his teeth. "Don't call me that." _Only Nick could call him that name._

"Why not?" Rich shrugged. "Nick does. We're all friends, right? Oh wait, you don't have any, because they all hate you…especially Nick."

"Why are you doing this? What did I ever do to you?"

"I'm not doing anything. Everyone just realized how fucking annoying you are. You don't deserve to work here."

Greg trembled in anger. "Shut up."

"No. You don't get to tell me what to do. _I'm_ gonna tell you what to do." He got up in Greg's face, harshly poking the man's chest. "You're gonna stay away from Nick and Warrick, alright? I'm their new best friend and you aren't. Soon enough they will hate you so much you'll have to quit. Maybe even kill yourself. Got it?"

Greg breathed heavily. It sounded like Rich was threatening him. Not wanting to piss the guy off even more, he nodded. "O-Okay."

"Glad you understand. Now Nick is coming down the hall. I want you to leave."

Rich let Greg go and the blonde ran out of the room just as Nick entered.

"Hey G- whoa. Guess he was in a hurry to get somewhere."

Rich grinned. "Yeah, I guess so."

The next day wasn't any better. Greg was changing his shirt in the locker room when he was roughly shoved up against the lockers, the metal handle digging into his back.

"Ah!"

"I saw you talking to Nick yesterday, Greg, specifically when I told you not to."

"It was for a case, I couldn't just ignore him!"

A fist suddenly punched him in the stomach, causing him to double over.

"I. Don't. Care. Do it again and I won't be so gentle next time. I'm _always_ watching you." Rich let go of Greg, letting him fall to the floor. "God, you're fucking pathetic." He walked out of the room while Greg was gasping for air. Tears formed in his eyes as he took a deep breath. Work was supposed to be the place he loved coming to…but now Rich was ruining that for him. Maybe he should tell somebody.

"Hey Greg."

The blonde looked up from the ground to see Catherine looking at him in confusion. Rich didn't say he couldn't talk to her.

"Oh…hey."

"What are you doing down on the floor?"

"I, uh, l-lost a contact."

"I didn't know you wore contacts."

"Yeah…well, that's why you never see me wear glasses." He cleared his throat and stood up. At least his breathing was back to normal so it wouldn't look suspicious. "Anyways, can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"Something isn't right about Rich."

"The new guy?" Catherine frowned. "What do you mean? He's great."

"No, he's not."

The woman chuckled. "You jealous because Nick hangs out with him more now?"

"What? No. Rich has been-"

"Hey Cath!" Rich poked his head in the doorway and Greg felt his entire blood supply drain from his body. Had he heard everything? God, if that was the case he was so screwed. "Brass is bringing in Matt Rotes, he had the victim's blood all over some clothes he was trying to ditch."

"Great! Let's go talk to him." Catherine turned, but then remembered Greg. "What were you about to say, Hun?" Her back was turned to Rich so she couldn't see the menacing face he was making at Greg.

Eyes wide, he knew he had to keep his mouth shut. He was probably already dead for trying to talk to Catherine about Rich in the first place. "N-No, never mind. You're right, I was just jealous."

Catherine smirked, patting him on the shoulder. "Don't worry. No one could forget about you." She left the room and before Rich left, he glared at Greg again and the blonde knew he had to watch his own back from now on. No one was going to believe him. Rich was trying to push him out of the group…and it was working.

~+CSI+~

The end of the day arrived extremely slowly and Greg just wanted to go home. It was dark when he trudged out of the building and towards his car; by the time he got there, he was so exhausted that he didn't see the dark shadow jump out from behind another car until he was roughly thrown to the ground.

"Hey! What the-"

"Hello, Greggo."

Greg gasped when the moon illuminated the parking lot, showing Richard's Cheshire grin.

"Rich…please just leave me alone," he whimpered. "I said I wouldn't talk to Nick or Warrick anymore."

"Well, I decided to change the terms after I heard you speaking to Catherine about me." He kicked Greg in the stomach making the younger man curl in on himself in pain. "If you tell _anyone_ about what's going on, you _will_ regret it." He kicked Greg again, this time in the face. Blood dribbled from the blonde's lip and he choked a sob. "I'll kill you…I've done it before and I'll do it again."

He kicked Greg a few more times before disappearing into the darkness. Greg lay on the ground, crying and bleeding and terrified for his life. After a few minutes, he stiffly pulled himself to his feet and got in his car. Once he got home, he cleaned up, put ice on his aching ribs and cried himself to sleep. He called out the next day, but no one probably even cared or noticed. After all, they all liked Richard more anyways. He was nothing now. When he did end up going back, he avoided Nick and Warrick like they were the plague. He gave results to Catherine so she could give them to the two CSI's, he'd leave the break room when he saw either one of them coming, and when Rich was around, he would remember those horrible words and have to leave so no one would see him tear up.

A week later, Greg couldn't take it anymore. He was sure Rich had come into his lab when he was away and messed with his things, because he couldn't find Catherine's evidence.

"I swear…it w-was right here on the top of the pile," he stuttered, Catherine standing next to him with hands on her hips.

"Maybe you took it to another desk?"

"No. I just went to the bathroom for two minutes…now it's gone!"

"Greg, you probably just misplaced it. You look exhausted and ill. Maybe you should go home."

"No!" He looked past Catherine through the glass windows and saw Rich pass by with a smirk on his face. That bastard had done something with the evidence and now he was paying for it.

"You know I'm gonna have to tell Grissom about this."

"Catherine, please don't. I'll find it."

The woman raised an eyebrow and sighed. She felt bad for the kid; something was up with him. "Fine. You have an hour to find it. After that, we're gonna have to tell Gris."

"Okay," Greg breathed and collapsed in his chair when the supervisor left. He was done with this. He couldn't keep living his life in fear, always having to look around the corner to make sure Richard wasn't there. Wiping his face, he glanced around seeing that the man was nowhere in sight before heading for Grissom's office. He would believe him, especially after he saw the bruises. Just as he reached the supervisor's door, his phone buzzed with a text message. It was from Nick.

_"Hey bud, can you come out to the back and help me bring in some evidence. 'Rick had to go make a call and I'm only one person."_

Greg took a shaky breath and scanned the area. Still no Rich, but the guy promised he was always watching. But if he didn't go, Nick would either be suspicious or hate him more because he didn't want to help.

_"Sure. I'll be right out."_ Pocketing his phone, he headed outside to meet the Texan.

Rich grinned evilly as he put away Nick's cellphone. He was not getting fired from another job. Not because of the little blonde runt. He was gonna make sure he stayed quiet…for good.

* * *

Nick searched high and low for his phone. He had left it in the Denali, because he forgot something from his kit and ran back inside. He only noticed it was missing when he got to the crime scene. He didn't see a point of going back to get it, but now that he returned, it had mysteriously disappeared. He walked down the hall with a deep frown on his face, making his way to the break room. While passing, he saw Richard at the counter, looking down at something that looked a lot like _his_ phone. That couldn't be right. Curious, he stepped inside.

"Hey, have you seen my phone?"

Richard whipped around, a started expression covered up with a forced smile. "Oh, yeah I just found it on the counter," he held it out and the Texan grabbed it, still apprehensive. It didn't look like Rich had "just found it," more like he was messing with it.

"Thanks." Nick turned around and left the room and when he was away from the other CSI, he unlocked it and knew he had a good reason to be suspicious. A message was asking permission to be deleted. "Huh." Pressing cancel, he read the text and his heart dropped.

_"Hey bud, can you come out to the back and help me bring in some evidence. 'Rick had to go make a call and I'm only one person."_

He sure as hell did not send this message to Greg. He didn't even _have_ his phone half an hour ago. He paused in his tracks, deciding whether or not he should go confront Rich about it, but he didn't have anything solid to start accusing people no matter how weird the message sounded. Why did Rich need to see Greg and why didn't he just use his own phone? At first, Rich was cool, but over the weeks he started getting weird…almost clingy. He was also really worried about Greg; the kid had been avoiding him, he was a lot quieter and he didn't joke around anymore. One time, he swore he saw the kid hunched over like he was in pain. He was about to go see what was wrong, but Richard had stopped to talk to him and he got distracted. Sighing, he decided to call Greg, but when he did there was no answer.

"Weird." Nick walked around the lab, but Greg was still missing. Now he was getting a little freaked out. He tried the phone again and this time he heard it ring…in Rich's hand. The other CSI looked down at the phone, his eyes going wide. And when he looked up to see Nick, he froze. The two shared a long look before the Texan angrily charged at him, tackling the man to the ground.

"Where's Greg! Where the hell is he?! Why do you have his phone?!"

"Nick!" Someone shouted behind him, trying to pull him off Richard.

"What the fuck did you do to him?" He growled just as he was being hauled away.

"What the hell is going on?" Catherine said, pushing past the crowd.

Nick realized Warrick was holding him back and he jerked away, panting angrily. "He had Greg's phone…and he sent him a message from mine saying to meet him out back…now I can't find Greg."

"Nick, I'm sure he's just in the bathroom or-"

"No, I checked everywhere. He's gone and this bastard did something to him…I know it."

Catherine shared a look with Warrick before exhaling. "Alright, put Richard in interrogation until we clear this up."

An officer led Rich towards an interrogation room while the other three CSI's went to security to look at the tapes.

"Where and what time?" The guard asked.

Nick exhaled. "Back of the building around five. That's when Greg got the text." God, he hoped the kid was okay. The guard typed on the keyboard for a moment before the screen stopped, showing the back of the building…with Rich and his car there as well. They all watched as he finished texting on Nick's phone and a smiled formed on his mouth. And not a good smile either. They waited a few more seconds before Greg appeared and he seemed shocked and terrified. He tried to go back, but the door had locked behind him. Before they knew it, Rich pulled out a crowbar from the truck and whacked Greg across the head, the kid immediately crumpling to the ground.

"Oh my god," Nick seethed yet his legs were feeling weak. "I'm gonna rip that son of a bitch apart."

Rich picked Greg up and carelessly threw him into the trunk. He looked to make sure no one had heard them before slamming the hood down and getting into the car, peeling out of the lot…out of sight from the cameras. So now they had no idea where they had disappeared to. Only Rich would be able to tell them now.

**Half an Hour Earlier**

Rich dragged Greg to the small storage unit he had rented awhile back, just for these occasions. The kid had blood dripping down the side of his face and was still out cold…which sucked, because he really wanted to see him struggle. When he reached his unit, he unlocked the door and lifted it up and bringing Greg inside. It smelled bad for a second, but he was so used to the stench of decomposed body that it didn't faze him that much anymore. He threw Greg roughly to the ground, not caring about the sickening thump his head made when it connected with the concrete. He tightly handcuffed the blonde's wrists together and ducked taped his ankles as well as his mouth, wrapping it a couple time around his head. He grasped the kid's face when he was finished and turned it to face him.

"You're gonna die in here, Greg," he chuckled and surprisingly Greg's eyes slowly flickered open. "Oh you're awake…good; now you can feel yourself slowly die alone, losing air in the hot heat."

Greg's cries were muffled and it just made Rich laugh and stand up straight. "I'll be back after work to clean up your body…then again, maybe I won't as you can tell I didn't with my last victim."

Greg glanced over to the other corner of the small area and his heart stopped. There were bones…human bones with handcuffs still around the wrists. _Oh god, I really am gonna die here because of this psycho._ He tried to scream, but the tape wouldn't allow him.

"Goodbye Greggo," Rich chuckled darkly as he hid Greg's form behind a couple boxes before shutting the door and locking it. He put away Greg's cellphone and walked away with a smirk; mission accomplished.

**Present**

"Where is he?" Catherine hissed. She and Warrick were interrogating Richard while Nick was forced to wait outside because she knew he would probably kill the man for hurting Greg.

"I'm never telling you," Rich grinned. "But he's gonna die soon."

The two CSI's shared a wary look. "What are you saying?" Catherine asked.

"I'm saying that even if you do find that pathetic piece of shit, he'll already be dead. Where he is, it's cramped, hot and little to no air. Also he's chained and gagged, so he won't be able to call for help. I give him…twenty minutes at the most."

Catherine and Warrick stood up straight and quickly left the room. Nick was pacing restlessly, running a hand through his hair. "You gotta let me in there," he said.

"I can't do that, Nicky. Now, we just have to figure out-"

"We don't have time to figure anything out! You heard what he said, Greg has twenty minutes to live!"

"And running around won't do anything to help. We need to see what properties or buildings Richard has rented or own."

Nick sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead. "Okay, okay."

It didn't take long, but the only thing that Rich had rented was his apartment.

"Dammit," Catherine said, glancing down at her watch. They were running out of time.

"Guys!" Archie shouted as he ran into the room. "I think I know where Richard brought Greg."

"Where? How?" Nick said.

"I used the traffic cams to follow his car. He went pretty far out, but I managed to figure out where he went before there were no more cameras. There's a small storage unit outside of town, only ten people have lockers there, but there's no name under Richard Tylers."

"Well, it must be under a different name," Warrick said. "But this is our only chance, we can't make a mistake and we only have ten minutes."

"He's there," Nick said. "I know he's there." God, he prayed he was right.

Catherine glanced at him and then nodded. "Alright, let's go."

By the time they got there, they had five minutes left and everyone was becoming agitated. "There are dozens of units," Nick said, looking at the list of names. "How the hell are we supposed to find Richard's if he didn't even use his name? Plus it looks like everyone paid in cash."

"Guess this place was meant for dark secrets," Warrick grumbled. "And who knows a how many Rich has."

Nick didn't even want to think about it. "Greg! Greg, answer me!"

Everyone started yelling Greg's name, but they knew it was a longshot if Rich had the kid tied up and gagged.

"Greggo!" Nick was losing hope; Greg was going to die if he wasn't already and it was his fault for not seeing how corrupt Richard was.

"Guys," Grissom said, coming from the manager's office. "I had Mandy fax over Richard's file and I compared his signature with the names here. The unit is under a Brent Coolidge, locker number 186."

Nick bolted down the hallway, everyone else following until they reached the locker.

"Greg! Hang on, buddy we're gonna get you out of there!"

Warrick brought over the bolt cutters and clipped the lock. Nick lifted the door up and they gasped in shock. The stench was horrible, yet they all recognized it. A dead body.

"Oh god."

"Nick, it's not Greg," Catherine coughed. There's bones."

"Right, but where is he?"

"Start moving stuff; Richard must've hid him behind the boxes."

"Greg!" Nick shouted in the small room, throwing the boxes out of the way. "Greg, come on where are-" And then he found him. "Over here!" Nick fell to his knees, choking a sob as he saw the condition of his little brother. The blonde was handcuffed and chained to the floor, duct tape wrapped around the back his head and covering his mouth. His face was ashen white and shining with sweat while bright red blood ran down the side of head where Richard had hit him with the crowbar.

"Greg?" Nick held his breath as he pressed his fingers to the kid's neck. There was a pulse, but it was extremely weak. He unlocked the handcuffs, and gently took off the tape, hoping he wasn't hurting his friend. When it was off, he put his ear over Greg's mouth and his pounding heart calmed down. "He's barely breathing, but alive. Call an ambulance."

"It's already on the way," Grissom replied. "Let's get him out of this hellhole."

"You said it." Nick cut the tape holding Greg's ankles together and then carefully picked him up, taking him out of the room. The room had been stuffy and unbelievably hot…and Greg had to endure that.

"I'm so sorry, Greg," he whispered.

Greg suddenly groaned, his forehead creased.

"Greggo?"

The blonde flinched. "P-Please…don't hurt me," he mumbled.

Nick frowned. "Greg, it's me, Nick."

The lab tech whimpered before going quiet once more. The Texan knew something was wrong…like something bad had happened before all this shit. "What the hell did Richard do to you kid?"

~+CSI+~

They had gotten to Greg just in time; a little longer and they wouldn't have been bringing him to the hospital. Just the thought of that made everyone sick. Greg came out lucky; he suffered from dehydration, fever, and a concussion. The doctors had also found old wounds like broken ribs and bruises all over his torso…like he had been abused. Nick had a feeling Richard had been hurting Greg long before this incident, but once the kid woke up, he would make sure to get the whole story. He watched Greg breathe in and out hoarsely, his face still a little pale but doing relatively better.

"I'm sorry this happened, man," he sighed, resting his hand on top of Greg's.

There was a sudden knock on the door and he turned to see Grissom stepping into the room.

"How's he doing?"

"Better. I'm just glad we got him out of there in time."

Grissom pursed his lips sadly. He felt guilty that he hadn't seen this sooner…that he had no idea who Richard Tylers really was.

"So Richard…he wasn't who he said he was."

"No, really," Nick said sarcastically.

Grissom ignored the comment and looked down at a file. "Richard, before he came to the lab, was Doug Carmen, fired and arrested for assault on another co-worker in 2003. Before that, Joe Parker, fired and charged for tampering with evidence in 2001 and before that, Peter Watson was suspected of a kidnapping and possible murder of his boss, David Fox in 1998. They never found Fox's body so he was released."

"Jesus. How did we not see this in his background check? Greg could've gotten killed."

"They were censored and buried."

Nick just shook his head in disbelief, feeling nauseous. Greg had almost become another one of the man's victims.

"He'll be okay, Nicky."

"I hope so."

**Two Hours Later**

Nick was dozing off in the chair when he heard a small moan come from Greg. Sitting up, he squeezed Greg's shoulder.

"Greg?"

Slowly, the blonde's eyes blinked open and he tiredly scanned the room.

"Greggo."

Greg suddenly gasped, his chest heaving as he became frantic. Rich was still there…he was gonna kill him. He thrashed around as someone grabbed his shoulders. He didn't wanna die.

"Greg! Easy, buddy, easy. It's me, Nick!"

"N-Nick?" He gulped.

"Yeah, man. You're alright."

He looked around the room; Rich would hurt him again if he started talking to Nick.

"W-Where's Richard?" He trembled.

"That bastard is being arrested and thrown in jail…for good. You're safe now."

Greg finally seemed to relax. "Good."

"Greg…what happened?"

The younger man looked over at Nick, his eyes sunken and haunted. "I tried to be nice to him when Rich when he first came to the lab…I must've done something wrong or…or offended him in some way for him to hate me so much."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, none of this is your fault, Greg. Rich is a repeat offender. He's killed and done stuff like this before. You were just unlucky. His name's not even Richard…he has so many personas I don't know which one he actually is."

"Seems that I'm always unlucky. He kept telling me that you guys hated me and wanted me gone. He told me not to talk to you anymore and if I did he would hurt me…I made the mistake of talking to you for your results and he attacked me in the locker room…punching me in the stomach. When I tried to tell Catherine, she thought I was just being jealous. Turns out Rich-or whoever he was- heard me and beat me up in the parking lot after work. That's why I didn't come in last Thursday. I was scared for my life. No one would believe me, but then he took some evidence for Cath and made it seem like I screwed up. I decided to go tell Grissom but that's when I got a text from you…I only realized it wasn't from you when I got outside. I was stupid, I should've known you weren't even back from your scene. Before I could escape, he hit me over the head and the next thing I knew…I woke up in the storage unit while Rich was tying me up. He told me I was gonna die…and I really thought I was. It was so hot and I couldn't breathe." A few tears shone in his eyes. "And that dead body…"

"Greggo, it's-"

"Please," Greg choked. "Please don't call me that."

"What-"

"Richard kept calling me that. It sounded so wrong coming from him."

"God, Greg…I'm so sorry." Nick was shaking with rage. Richard had been abusing his best friend right under his nose. He was threatening him and now he ruined the nickname he always called the kid.

Greg wiped his face. "It's okay."

"It's not okay. We all feel horrible that we didn't see any of this. We're CSI's and we should've seen what was going on. You're my best friend, my brother and I'm supposed to protect you. And I'll make damn sure this never happens again, I promise. And I'll make it up to you."

"We all will," a voice said. It was Catherine. She, Warrick, and Grissom came into the room, happy Greg was awake. Cath went over to Greg and hugged him lightly. "I'm so sorry I didn't listen to you Greg. I can't believe I didn't see this happening."

"It's over now. I don't blame you. I had no proof that Richard was a killer. And you guys don't have to do anything…except one thing maybe."

"Anything Greg," Catherine and Nick replied in unison.

"Just promise to do better background checks on future co-workers," he grinned.

Nick smiled back and squeezed Greg's arm. "Oh don't worry. I'll make damn sure to go over their files with a fine-tooth comb."

Greg chuckled. "I don't doubt that. But, yeah, I'd feel a lot safer if you did."

"We all would," Catherine smirked. "Now get some rest, kiddo. Warrick and I are gonna go deal with that piece of shit, Richard or Peter or Joe or whoever he is."

"Either way, I'm still gonna beat the crap out of him," Warrick grumbled. He went up to Greg and pat him on the shoulder. "I'm glad you're alright, man."

Catherine kissed him on the forehead before the two left.

Grissom smiled. "I apologize Greg. Next time we will definitely be more careful when we hire someone."

Greg nodded, smiling back. "Thanks."

"Now I gotta go talk to the day shift; they're the ones processing that locker." Once he left, Greg turned to Nick.

"Why aren't you leaving? I thought you wanted to rip that guy's head off, too."

"I do, trust me, but I'd probably get fired. Plus, I'd rather hang out with you." _I'm not leaving you alone after all this._

"And do what?" Greg questioned, sitting up straighter.

"I brought my Xbox, some games and a couple movies. You choose."

"How about we play some Call of Duty?" Greg smirked. "I'm a pro at it."

"Oh yeah? We'll see about that," Nick chuckled, setting up the console to the TV provided in Greg's room. "Prepared to get your ass kicked, Greg, because this is all I play when I get home."

"No dates? Losing your touch, huh?"

"And you think you're better?"

"Well, before all this, I had three dates a week."

"Damn…when you get out of here I'm gonna make you my wingman. Now, ready to be taken down, buddy?"

Greg chuckled. "You're on."

**FIN!**

**Next Prompt is For:****_ Marymel_**

**_CamilaAlgo_**

**_feelingsplosion_**

**_Meggysmeg_**

**_SandieBrody_**

**_Anonymous and Guest_**

**_Ashley_**

**_Srta McLean_**

**_Guest (2)_**

**_Tadaa_**

**_Leggomygreggo_**

**_Hadley_**

**_Caprice_**

_**Kalisberg**_

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_**Mandy**_

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**_Guest (4)_**

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**_Gully_**

**_Guest (6)_**


	12. Family Affairs

**Family Affairs**

**Prompt For: Marymel: Set in the season ten premiere where the Russian mob shoots up the lab and steals the body Greg brought back from his crime scene**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Greg stood alone in autopsy looking down at the body of the John Doe he got from the fleabag motel. The guy smelled horrible, and it wasn't just from being dead. He wasn't happy that Catherine sent him there in the first place, because he would rather be working the case with the famous actress, Olivia, but hey, it was the job…unfortunately. Sighing, he pulled out his camera and started taking pictures of the horrible injuries the man received. It looked like he had been beaten to death, but he wouldn't know until Doc Robbins came back from upstairs. He glanced at his watch and frowned; that should've been ten minutes ago. Maybe he was caught up in something. Greg brushed it off and continued to retrieve evidence from the body when all of a sudden the doors slammed open and five men with guns stormed into the room. Greg jumped, dropping the camera on the ground, his heart racing.

"Who are you?" He said immediately, reaching for his gun but then realizing he left it up in his locker. _Stupid!_

"That's for us to know and for you to never find out. Now leave so we can steal a body in peace."

Greg frowned and moved in front of the table, blocking the men from stealing the John Doe…however it was weird they were stealing his instead of Olivia's.

"Move kid," one of the men growled, raising his gun. "We're giving you a chance to live here."

As much as Greg wanted to move, he couldn't let these guys take evidence. His subconscious was yelling at him to get out of the way, but there had to be a reason they wanted the body and he wasn't gonna let that happen. "No. I'm not gonna let you get away with this." They had to have come from the front entrance, so he didn't even want to think about the disaster upstairs.

"And _you're _gonna stop us? You're a pathetic, scrawny weakling. Now move or you die."

Greg breathed heavily and apparently he took too long to decide, because one of the men in the back raised his gun swiftly and fired his gun twice, striking Greg once in the abdomen and once in the chest. He choked, sinking to the floor and on his side gasping in pain. While three guys went for the body, the other two began brutally kicking Greg in the stomach.

"You should've listened kid. We gave you a chance and you blew it. You're gonna die."

Greg grunted, white hot pain shooting throughout his body. He tried to crawl away, but one foot kicked him in the side of head, knocking him out instantly. He must've only been unconscious for a few seconds, because when he came to, he could see the blurry figures of the shooters leaving autopsy. He was fading in and out and his body screamed in agony. Every movement made him whimper; those guys were right. He was weak. Nick has gotten shot a few times and he probably pushed through the pain. He, on the other hand, was about ready to puke. He had to get help; he couldn't bleed to death…especially in autopsy. Arching his neck, Greg squinted through his tunneling vision to see the phone on the desk…it seemed so far away. But he had to try. With a strangled wheeze, he dragged himself across the floor. The blood gushed out of his wounds, his shirt soaked and streaking the tiles with red. It felt like he had gone miles before getting to the desk; Greg reached up, his fingers grazing the receiver.

_Come on. Come on._

Just when he was about to give up, Greg finally knocked the whole thing to the floor. He grabbed the receiver and shakily dialed Catherine's number. It rang and rang and rang, but there was no answer. Stifling a sob, he blinked away unconsciousness; he was starting to feel cold. Like all his body's blood supply was almost completely drained. He knew he was lying a pool of his own blood…he knew he was going to die in a few minutes…but he had to try one last time. His chest felt heavy and a metallic taste appeared in his mouth; Greg coughed and saw the blood splatter onto the floor. Maybe he was gonna die in less than three minutes. Peering at the numbers on the keys, the blonde dialed Sara's phone number, praying that she would answer. He had to force his eyes to stay open, because once they closed, he would be done for. Greg was just about to give up hope when they line finally clicked, indicating that someone had picked up.

"Hello?"  
_Thank god._ Now he just needed to find his voice. He breathed heavily, willing his mouth to say something.

"Okay, listen pervert-"

"N-No…Sara…G-Greg."

"Greg? Greg, are you okay?"

Death's cold hands were dragging him down and his grip on the phone weakened. He just needed to get out one more word. "H-Help." And he passed out just as Doc Robbins stepped into the room.

Sara had answered the phone only to hear someone breathing raggedly on the other end. She scoffed in disgust and was starting to tell the sicko when they spoke up. It was Greg…and he sounded horrible.

_"H-Help."_

"Greg?" Why wasn't he answering her? "Greg!"

_"Sara?"_

"Doc? What's going on? Where are you? Where's Greg?"

Robbins had come into autopsy to see which body the Russian mob had stolen when he came across a huge trail of blood…with Greg at the other end, unmoving. He knelt down and felt for a pulse; it was extremely weak and if they didn't get Greg to a hospital in the next seven minutes, he might not make it. His face was already a transparent gray and lips a shade of blue.

"I'm in autopsy; you might want to get down here, Sara. And bring the paramedics…fast." Robbins hung up before Sara could respond; he had to put pressure on Greg's wound…shit there were two of them? "Dammit, Greg. Just hang on. Don't give up on me."

Sara was petrified; something bad had occurred down in autopsy and she was sure Greg was hurt. Then she remembered that the blonde had been downstairs with the body he got from his crime scene…where the mob had gone down. _Crap._

"Sara," Nick came up behind her along with Catherine. They looked frenzied after what just happened in the lab and they were determined to figure out what the mob wanted with a body, which was no doubt Olivia's. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Get the paramedics," Sara replied quietly.

Nick frowned. "What?"

"It's Greg."

She didn't need to say anymore, because Nick paled drastically. Minutes later, they were all running down to autopsy and when Nick saw the sight before him, his legs nearly collapsed beneath him.

"Greg! Oh god." Greg was as white as a sheet, motionless and lying on an autopsy slab, blood soaking his shirt. "No, please, this can't be happening," he choked. The kid looked…dead.

"Nick, calm down!" Robbins said. "I just moved him up here, he's still alive." Although he didn't want to say he wouldn't be for long. He had managed to rouse Greg long enough for him to help him onto table so he could tend to the injuries until the medics got there.

"Fuck." Nick washed a hand over his face. He was about to go over to the kid when paramedics burst through the door, pushing past him and to Greg. They immediately started assessing him and said the words that no one wanted to hear.

"No pulse!"

"Shit," Nick and Sara breathed. They all watched in horror as a tube was shoved down Greg's throat and moved to a stretcher. They applied pressure bandages to the wounds to hopefully staunch the bleeding until they reached the hospital.

"Starting CPR," one of the medics said, straddling Greg's hips and pressing down on his chest. "We'll shock his heart in the vehicle. Once set, they ran towards the door and out the backway towards the ambulance. They couldn't afford to waste any time. Greg's life was literally hanging by a thread. Nick was about to follow, but Catherine held him back.

"I need to go with him, Cath," he choked. "Please."

"We'll follow in the car," she replied. "They need as much room in the back as they can." However, the real reason was because if Greg ended up…dying, it wasn't something the Texan needed to see. It would be forever burned into his memory and he would never be the same.

Nick sighed heavily and nodded as they all rushed to their Denali's and drove behind the ambulance. They all wanted to know what was going on inside the vehicle before them, praying that the next time they saw Greg, he wouldn't be lying in the hospital morgue.

~+CSI+~

Nick paced in the waiting room; he couldn't sit…he _wouldn't_ sit. His best friend was behind doors and underneath a scalpel and he wouldn't even know if the kid would live. He was shot in the chest for god sakes…rarely anyone survived that. He glanced up at the wall clock and groaned. _Two hours._ He couldn't believe that much time passed by already. _Fuck, what's happening back there?_

Everyone was facing their demons, but none more than Catherine. Sure, it was the job and she could've sent anyone to the crime scene at the hotel…she could've put anyone on that case, but she chose Greg. The woman bowed her head, resting it on her fists, letting a few tears slip down her cheeks. All that blood…it made her sick. _You better fight through this kiddo. We can't lose you._ Another hour passed before a doctor finally came into the room.

"Family of Greg Sanders?" The man, Dr. Baton, spoke.

Nick's head snapped up. "That's us. Greg's okay, right? Please tell me he's okay."

The doctor gave him a grim smile. "I think its best that we talk-"

"No," Nick grunted. "Tell me. Is he…"

"He's not dead. Greg is in a very deep coma and it's possible that he won't wake up or even worse, he may not make it."

Nick's heart dropped to the floor. "W-What are you talking about?"

"The first bullet perforated the stomach causing sepsis. Now that wouldn't be too much of a problem if he wasn't shot in the chest where the bullet just barely grazed the heart. His body is extremely weak and vulnerable. His heartrate and blood pressure are very low and the infection from the sepsis isn't helping. His immune system is going into overdrive trying to fix three serious things at once. He's not strong enough to fight on his own so we've put him on life support. Unfortunately, it looks like he signed a DNR awhile back, so we can only keep him on it for so long."

Nick shuddered. "Oh god."

"I can let you see him, but you'll need to be sterilized, wear scrubs, gloves and a mask. We can't have anything else attacking his body; I think it would be best to talk to him and say what you want to say in case things take a turn for the worse after we shut things down.

Nick shook his head in disbelief. They were being told to say their goodbyes to Greg. This was a fucking nightmare. The kid didn't deserve this.

"How long do you think he has?" Catherine asked numbly.

"It really depends on him. I can let you sit with him until you want to take him off life support and we can see where it goes from there."

Nick wiped his face; he couldn't do this. Without another word, he briskly walked out of the room, not sure where he was going but knowing he needed to get some air before he punched something…or someone.

Sara sighed. "I'll go talk to him."

The doctor felt bad. It was always hard to hear that a loved one might die. "Would you like to see him now or wait for the others?"

"They might be awhile," Langston said. "We'll go first."

"Alright, follow me."

The two were sterilized and they changed into scrubs. Once they got their gloves and masks on, they were let into the quiet room.

"Greg." Catherine's heart sunk as she walked over to the younger man. He looked so small next to all the machines…in fact, it didn't even look like Greg. His face was void of all color, his hair was flat and he was completely still. Sitting down on the bed next to him, Catherine took his cold, lifeless hand in hers. "Greg, sweetie. I'm so sorry this happened." People may tell her otherwise…that she couldn't have known this was going to happen, but no matter what, she'd feel guilty. That this was all her fault. She stroked back his bangs. "We love you so much. You're an amazing CSI and person and we can't lose you. _Nick_ can't lose you. He loves you like a brother and this is killing him. It's killing all of us." She squeezed his fingers, watching his chest rise and fall weakly. This sucked.

Outside, Nick was sitting on a bench, trying to compose himself. _Why did this have to happen to you Greggo? You're my little brother…and I failed at protecting you._

"Nick?"

He looked up to see Sara walking toward him.

"Sorry I walked out like that…I just couldn't do it."

"I understand," the brunette said, sitting down next to him. "Greg's gonna be okay, you know that right?"

"I'm trying to believe that, Sara, I really am but…you heard what the doctor said. Once they take him off life support…" he didn't even want to think about it. "And why the hell did he have a DNR? That's not something Greggo would do."

"Maybe he has a reason, but until then, we go in there and make him fight. You guys are like brothers and when he hears you, he'll know that he needs to come back to us. He's not gonna die, Nick, he's too stubborn for that."

The Texan wiped his eyes and took in a shaky breath. "You're right." Why he had a moment of doubt, he had no idea. Greg was stronger than he looked and would never give up this quickly.

"Come on, let's go see him." Sara got up and held out her hand for the man to take it. The Texan hesitated and then grasped it, pulling himself up with a weak smile. They walked to Greg's room and saw Catherine and Langston still inside. They got cleaned up and stepped into the room.

"Hey Nicky," Catherine smiled sadly. "How're you doing?"

He just shrugged, unable to keep his eyes off his best friend…his unmoving best friend. Swallowing thickly, he walked past the others and sat down in the chair next to the kid's bed.

"Jesus kiddo, what did you get yourself into?"

* * *

Nick refused to say his goodbyes to Greg. He refused to believe that the man was going to die when they took him off the life support machines. But that didn't stop him from being petrified when they all stood around him as the doctor began shutting off the machines. He was trying to hold himself together as hard as it was. Sara was crying with Catherine and Ray was silently praying. Nick closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _Please Greg…don't leave me buddy._

"Alright, here we go," Dr. Raton said. The last machine was off and Greg's heart got slower and slower with each passing second. Nick shivered, not liking how this was going.

"Greg," he choked going next to the kid, taking his hand. "You can't leave us…you can't leave me. We're brothers. You're my little brother and I'm supposed to protect you. I told you that you have to fight no matter what. I already lost one family member last year and I can't go through it again. I need you, buddy. I know I haven't been a good brother after Warrick, that I distanced myself, but that's gonna change, I promise. We'll go to baseball games, eat chicken wings until we puke and just hang out like we used to. Please, G."

And then that flat tone buzzed in everyone's ears. Nick stood there, frozen and speechless. "No."

The doctor stayed back as Nick began crying into his dead friend's shoulder. "I'm truly sor-"

_Beep, Beep. Beep. Beep._

Nick gasped in surprise, sitting up and staring at the monitor. "Greg?"

Dr. Raton came over with a frown on his face, pressing a stethoscope to Greg's chest. "I don't believe it. He's coming back."

Nick smiled in relief and laughed. "I knew you could do it, bud. I knew you could hear me."

The others cheered, hugging each other and crying with joy. Greg was going to make it.

**Five Days Later**

Nick was sitting in Greg's new, smaller room reading the newspaper while his friend slept. They kept Greg in a medically induced coma for the past three days so he could heal without any interruptions, but they took him off the medication this morning and it was just the waiting game now. Greg looked a little better than he had earlier, yet still deathly pale. Nick didn't care though, he was just happy his little brother was alive.

"Ni-Nick?"

The Texan lifted his head and smiled when he saw Greg's dark brown eyes staring back at him.

"Hey buddy," he said softly. "Welcome back."

Greg frowned. "What…h-happened?" Everything after Warrick being murdered and Grissom leaving was a blank. "How did I end up in the hospital?"

"What do you remember?"

The younger man creased his forehead in thought. "G-Grissom just left…I think?"

_Shit. Greg lost nearly a month of his memory._ "Well, it's been a while since then. You were shot twice when the mob came into the lab to steal a body."

Greg stared at him in fear. "W-Why can't I remember?"

Nick sighed. "You were put on life support until the doctor said you signed a DNR…Greg why would you do something like that. I really thought I was going to lose you. Your…your heart stopped and…"

Greg pursed his lips. "Because I…I don't want to be hooked up to machines for the rest of my life, Nick. I guess I was really lucky this time, but what if there's a next time and I'm brain dead or something. I watched my Nana Olaf go through that; she was in pain, miserable, being poked and prodded with needles all the time. That's not how I want to die."

Nick swallowed and nodded. "I guess I can understand that. But why didn't you tell me or anyone else about it?"

"To be honest, I actually forgot about it until now. I'm sorry."

"It's alright, G," Nick grinned, squeezing the younger man's arm. "All that matters, now, is that you're okay."

The blonde smiled weakly and sagged into the pillows. "Where are the others?"

"Getting something to eat. You've been in a medically induced in coma for four days."

"Damn." Greg looked at Nick. He looked like shit. "Have you…been sitting here the whole time?"

"You're my best friend, Greg. I'll be by your side no matter what. I don't know what I would do if…you know. After Warrick was murdered, I forgot that he wasn't just my friend, he was yours too and you never got a chance to grieve. I pushed you away and even though I did, you still tried to make me feel better. I've been a horrible friend and brother since then and watching you die made me realize not to take things for granted. I'm sorry."

Greg gave the Texan a small smile and placed his hand on top of his. "It's okay, Nick, I forgive you."

Nick let out a deep sigh and grinned before bringing the blonde into a gentle hug. "I'm so glad you're okay, buddy."

"Don't worry," Greg replied into Nick's shoulder. "I'm not gonna go anywhere. Who would be there to gloat in your face when the Vikings lose?"

Nick rolled his eyes and pulled away, ruffling Greg's hair. "Yeah, that'll be the day."

* * *

**FIN**

**Next Prompt for:****_ CamilaAlgo_**

**_feelingsplosion_**

**_Meggysmeg_**

**_SandieBrody_**

**_Anonymous and Guest_**

**_Ashley_**

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**_Tadaa_**

**_Leggomygreggo_**

**_Hadley_**

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_**Marymel**_

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**_Marymel_**

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	13. Framed

**Framed**

**Prompt for: CamilaAlgo: Greg is framed by someone from a different agency**

**Sorry for the extremely long wait. Working all week and no internet :( sucks, but I hope this story makes up for it and I hope everyone is still reading!**

"Greg, what are you doing here man?" Nick said as he stepped into the break room. The blonde was lying on the couch with an icepack on his forehead and his eyes closed. The man had been sick for the past few days but the cold was starting to turn into the flu and he looked like crap because of the high fever.

Greg blinked his eyes open, blearily looking up at Nick. He had been working non-stop for five days despite the fact that he was sick. The case they were working on had them all stumped and he wanted to solve it before relaxing was an option. A little boy's life was at stake; he didn't have time to lie around at home and watch TV. "I'm just resting for a minute," he croaked. "Then I gotta go look at the evidence again."

"No, you need to go home, bud. You look like death warmed over."

"Nick, I'm fine," he sighed, closing his eyes again. The ice pack was doing nothing to lower his raging fever. He sat up and blinked when he was hit with a head rush.

"The hell you are, man. Greg, please, I'm just worried about you. What if you pass out and end up in the hospital?"

Greg rubbed his face. "Nick, you don't have to worry about me okay?"

"I'll always worry about you. You're my little brother. Please…just go home for a little bit, okay? I'll even drive you and if anything comes up, I promise I'll call you."

"You swear?" Greg coughed.

Nick smirked. "I swear, Greg. Now come on, get your stuff and I'll wait out front."

Greg nodded and as he headed to the locker room, Nick went outside to start the car. Ten minutes later found Nick parked outside of Greg's apartment, the younger man resting against the window. The Texan pursed his lips; the poor kid. He had nearly worked himself to death. He hated that he was gonna have to wake him up, but the car wasn't exactly comfortable.

"Greg…Greggo," he whispered, shaking the blonde's shoulder. His face was pale and sweaty and he just looked completely miserable.

"Hmm?"

"We're here."

Greg peeled open his eyes, lifting his head from the window and looked outside. "Oh." He took a deep breath. "Thanks for bringing me Nick."

"You're welcome, buddy. Get some rest, will ya?"

Greg smiled and got out of the car. Once Nick pulled away and disappeared down the street, Greg headed up the stairs, unaware of the surprise he was gonna get when he reached his apartment. Unaware of the black car that had been parked on the side of the street behind where Nick had pulled up to. Yawning, Greg pulled out his keys and unlocked the door, but before he had a chance to shut it, a bag was pulled over his head and his hands were cuffed behind his back.

"Ah! What's going on!? Who are you?!"

Hands grabbed his arms and legs, lifting him up and carrying him out the door.

"Gregory Sanders, you're under arrest for the murder of Special Agent Thomas Ryder."

"What?! What the hell are you talking about? I don't even know who that is!"

"Shut up, dirt bag," another voice said and hit Greg over the head.

The blonde instantly became dazed and nauseous. He was thrown into what felt like a trunk before the door slammed shut and the engine started.

"Please…I didn't do anything," he choked while hot tears trickled down his cheeks. What the hell was going on?

~+CSI+~

Catherine frowned when she called Greg for the third time with no answer. _Weird._ Nick said the kid had been sick and went home early last night, but surely he would be up after twenty four hours, right?

"Hey Nicky," she called out as he passed her office.

"Yeah?" He poked his head in.

"Have you talked to Greg since last night?"

"No, I just assumed he was sleeping." He glanced at his watch. "Is he not here?"

"He should've been an hour ago and he's not answering his phone…can you go check on him? Maybe he just overslept. If he needs to take another day off, that's fine, I just need to know so I can send Sara to his scene."

Nick nodded and left the lab, heading over to Greg's apartment. He hadn't thought much of it when Greg didn't answer his phone call this afternoon, assuming that he was just sleeping, but now…

He got out of the Denali when he reached the younger man's building and bounded up the stairs. What he saw made his heart stop; Greg's door was wide open. Trying not to panic, Nick pulled out his gun and strode into the apartment, clearing all the rooms.

"Greg? Greggo, you here?!" He walked back into the entryway and something crunched underneath his foot. He glanced down and swore. It was Greg's phone. "Dammit." He pulled out his own cell and dialed Catherine.

"Catherine, something happened. Greg's missing."

* * *

They processed Greg's apartment, put out a BOLO, called around, knocked on doors, but they came up with nothing. The kid had vanished from thin air and it was scaring them all. Just when they thought they would never find him, Catherine got a call from the CIA director.

"He was what?"

_"Arrested, ma'am, for murder. He was transferred over to the prison four hours ago."_

"When was he arrested?" Catherine hissed. This had to be all wrong. Greg never did anything to hurt anybody.

_"Last night around eleven."_

"And you didn't think to let him call anyone? His lawyer? Greg is a CSI and he deserves to be protected, especially if you put him in jail with a bunch of people he convicted!" She was fucking furious right now and she was sure Nick would be too once he found out.

_"If you want to see him and bring a lawyer, you can come down to LV Maximum Security Prison and do so, but right now he's on high watch."_

"Greg is not a murderer! You have it all wrong!"

_"You're the CSI, Ms. Willows. You know that the evidence doesn't lie and we have his fingerprints all over the murder weapon and blood on the victim and a security tape video showing Mr. Sanders at the scene at the same time of the murder. Thomas Ryder was an officer of the law, too, and his friends at the CIA don't take lightly to that sort of thing."_ With that, the agent on the other end hung up, leaving Catherine speechless.

"What was that all about," Nick said, coming into the room. "That Greg?"

Catherine sighed and looked up at the man sadly.

"What?" He asked fearfully. "What's wrong?"

"He was arrested for murder, Nicky. He's in prison."

Nick's heart dropped, his blood running cold. "You're joking, right?"

"I'm afraid not."

"This is ridiculous! He's in jail? With a bunch of actual murderers that we put away? He's gonna be dead meat when someone recognizes him! He had to have been framed!"

"I know that, Nick, I know. That's why were gonna straighten this thing out."

Nick ran his fingers through his spikes, trying to take a deep breath. "When?"

"When what?"

"When was he arrested?"

"Last night around eleven."

"Shit…that's right after I dropped him off at his apartment. God, I should've gone up with him or something. And he's really sick, no way will he survive a filthy place like prison."

"We're gonna figure this out, kiddo," Catherine smiled sadly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Go wait in the car, I'm gonna tell the others, but we should keep this on the down low until we know more."

Nick nodded and left the lab. This was all fucked up. Greg was arrested and for murder. How could this be happening right now?

When Nick and Catherine got to the prison, they were stripped of their guns, phones and badges. Catherine went to go talk with the warden while Nick was led to a small visiting room where he waited for Greg to be brought in.

"Oh my god," Nick whispered when the blonde, clad in an orange jumpsuit, was shoved into the room, wrists shackled in front of him. "Greg." His face had a grayish tint to it, his eyes lined with dark shadows, one of them being blackened with a bruise and his forehead sweaty. A few other bruises littered his jaw, making his face appear swollen. "What the hell did they do to you?" He reached over to touch his hand, but the guard cleared his throat.

"No contact with the prisoner."

"Come on, man, we're all on the same side here. Greg isn't a killer."

"Then why is he in here?"

Nick just rolled his eyes and stared back at his friend. "What happened?"

"Good cop bad cop," Greg wheezed. His flu was getting worse on account of the horrible conditions of this place…what was worse, he swore he someone figured out who he was already. "I went upstairs after you dropped me off and they pulled a bag over my head and threw me in the trunk, being arrested for killing a CIA agent that I don't even know. N-Next thing I know I'm being interrogated for twelve hours, not allowed to sleep or have something to drink or eat. I didn't do this Nick, please, you have to get me out of here; you have to believe me." Tears welled in Greg's eyes and Nick could tell the kid was really terrified.

"I _do_ believe you, kid. I'm gonna clear your name and get you out of this hellhole."

"P-Promise?"

"I promise, G."

Greg wiped his eyes. He's was being really pathetic. "Nick I'm really scared. I've already seen like five people we put away. If one of them recognizes me-"

"Greggo, calm down. You're gonna be alright. Nothing bad will happen."

Greg stared at the Texan uncertainly, but decided to trust the man. "Okay."

"Okay. Trust me, Greg. We're gonna get you home."

"Wait…what about my case…with Bobby Masters?"

He couldn't believe how selfless the kid was. He was in fucking prison and he was worried about someone else. "We gave it to the day shift, Greg. It's taken care of."

Greg let out a sigh of relief. "Good."

"Time's up," the guard grunted before grabbing the blonde roughly by the bicep and hauling him up.

"Hey! Take it easy, alright?" Nick bark.

The guard ignored him and started to push Greg out of the room. The CSI glanced back at Nick worriedly until he disappeared. The Texan sat in the room few a few extra minutes, trying to process everything that just happened. He then shot up with an angry shout, kicking down the chair. Greg was going to be okay here, right? He made a promise to the kid that he would be okay, that nothing bad would happen. And if he broke that promise, he would never forgive himself.

**Later That Night**

Greg shivered, crying softly as he lie curled up in the dark in his cold cell…alone. Why was this happening to him? Why did everything bad happen to _him?_ He tried to wrack his brain as to who would frame him for some CIA agent's murder, but no one came to mind. Greg rolled to his other side when he heard a door clang in the distance. So far he had managed to stay away from the others, keeping to himself, his head down and mouth shut.

"Please get me out of here, Nick," he whispered.

"Who's Nick? Your boyfriend?"

Greg gasped and jerked up to see a couple of dark shadows standing by the bed. His cell door was open as well and he figured there was a guard in here that hated him just as much as the guys he sent in here.

"Wh-who are you?" He breathed, plastering himself against the wall. "What do you want?"

"You don't recognize me, Sanders? Neil Griffin, murdered an entire family…well allegedly."

"You're not innocent. You deserve to be in here."

"And you don't? I guess you coming in here is a gift to me, Greg…but first, some pent up anger that I've held in, waiting to meet again to take it out on you. Boys, you can go first, I like sloppy seconds."

Greg whimpered, trying to get away, but his attempts were futile and Neil's men grabbed him by the ankles and pulled him to the floor.

"Please! Please don't do this. He-" his cries were cut off when fists punched him in the face and feet kicked him in the stomach and chest. He couldn't breathe, everything hurt and just when he thought nothing else could go wrong with his life, he felt his pants being tugged down from his waist.

"Oh god," he sobbed. He closed his eyes and forced himself the fade away from reality for the next half hour. However, right at that moment, he'd rather die.

**The Next Morning**

"Who would do this to Greg? He wouldn't even harm a fly," Sara said. They were all in the break room, trying to figure out who framed Greg. Because he _was_ framed. There was no doubt about it.

"Did he have an alibi?" Warrick asked. "It says here Agent Ryder was murdered on Thursday of last week. Anyone know where he was?"

They all shook their heads.

"It was his day off," Catherine said.

"But he didn't do this," Nick added.

"It's the CIA's word against his," Warrick replied. "Unless there were camera's in Greg's apartment showing that he was home at the time of the murder, he has no alibi."

"But this is Greg we're talking about! He couldn't do something like this. And Agent Ryder is a big guy, Greg never would've been able to overtake him!" The Texan seethed.

"Unless he was already incapacitated," said Warrick.

"Are you saying you think he actually did this?" Growled Nick. "Wow, 'Rick, you're a really great friend."

"I'm not saying I think he did this, I'm just thinking how the CIA agents are."

"Whatever."

"Warrick's right," Sara began. "This is probably how they're pinning Greg for this. No alibi, fingerprints, DNA…it's all there."

"Dammit," Catherine hissed, rubbing her forehead. "Alright, Sara and Nick, you guys head to the prison with a list of people Greg's gotten arrested and go over it with him. See if he could pick out a name. I'm gonna call the judge and see if I can get Greg moved to a safer prison or at least get him protection. Warrick you call the CIA and get the evidence so we can look at it for ourselves."

The all went their separate ways, hoping they could get their friend out of jail before something bad happened. When Sara and Nick got to the prison and asked for Greg, the response they got made them sick.

"Sanders isn't in his cell, he's in the infirmary."

"What?!" Nick burst out. "What the hell happened?"

"A couple of other inmates somehow got into his cell and attacked him brutally."

"Son of a bitch." He promised…he swore on his life to the kid that nothing bad would happen and it did. "Can we see him?"

"Yeah," the guard said. "Infirmary is down the hall to the left."

Sara and Nick shared a worried look before walking down the hall towards the medical wing. Nick couldn't stop berating himself for this; if Greg looked bad…he would hate himself forever. When they pushed through the double doors, the nurse directed him to the end of the room where Greg was placed.

"Oh Greg," Nick choked when seeing the condition of his friend. Greg's face looked gaunt with the littered bruises, swollen eyes, and a busted lip. His skin was pale and his forehead was sweaty, the temperature on the monitor reading 103° and his blood pressure low. His face was scrunched up in pain, small tears slipping from beneath his closed eyelids. A sheet was pulled up to his waist and more bruises coated his chest and torso.

"Greg?" Sara whispered soothingly, knowing any loud noises might freak the kid out.

The blonde's eyelids slowly flickered open and the two CSI's could see how scared and how much pain Greg was in just from the look in his deep brown eyes.

"S-Sara?" Greg gasped painfully.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

Greg started crying a little more. "E-Everything hurts. N-Neil Griffin…he and his friends b-beat me up. I'm really s-scared." He wasn't gonna tell them about the other thing, at least not yet. It was too embarrassing. He turned to Nick, his body trembling. "You p-promised, Nick. You promised y-you wouldn't let anything happen."

Nick swallowed, feeling extremely guilty about this. "I'm so sorry, buddy." He touched Greg's hand but the blonde flinched and jerked away.

"What…what are you guys doing here anyways?" Greg sniffed.

"We came to give you a list of names to see if maybe one of them framed you. But if you're not up to it right now-"

The man wiped his nose. "No…let's do it. I want to get the hell out of here."

Sara smiled and dragged a chair over, Nick doing the same.

"We're gonna get you out," Nick said. "I promise."

Greg sighed, not making eye contact with the Texan. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Nick."

Nick bowed his head and stayed quiet, knowing that not only did he let his friend get hurt…_he_ hurt him too. When was this whole mess going to be over?

Sara felt bad for Nick, knowing this was killing him inside, too. "Okay, let's get started."

~+CSI+~

They were all pissed. The judge denied Catherine's request to get Greg transferred to a safer place, saying that lots of inmates get sent to the infirmary and don't get moved. Nick had been quiet ever since he and Sara left the prison, sick to his stomach that Greg was attacked. He wanted to stay to make sure the kid would be okay, but the warden wouldn't hear of it. There was nothing they could do. The only way Greg would get out of that prison was if he left in a body bag and they were determined not to let that happen. However, they were all staying late, working their asses off when Catherine's phone rang. When she hung up, she sighed in dejection and everyone knew something bad had happened.

"What? What's wrong?" Warrick questioned.

"Greg was brought to Sand Valley Medical last night. He was nearly killed when someone tried to smother him with a pillow in his sleep."

"What do you mean nearly killed?" Nick said in a shaky voice.

"He flat-lined."

"Jesus Christ. This has gone too far."

"Well, at least he's out of the jail," Sara added. "How is he?"

"Not sure. The last time they saw him, he wasn't breathing."

"We have to go see him," Nick said, standing up abruptly. He prayed the kid wasn't dead. "I'm not letting anything else happen to him." Without waiting for anyone to respond, Nick stormed out of the room.

Catherine pursed her lips and looked back down at the names Greg gave them. "Okay, lets finish this; Greg's out of jail, but he's still not safe…he's still not free. Let's look at the tape again, something felt off about it."

Sara put in the video tape and pressed play on the TV. They all watched intently, waiting for the ball to drop…waiting to see if it was really Greg. Ryder stepped into the elevator and not long after, a man that looked so much like Greg followed. Same height, same build, same hair color and style. But just before he did, he touched the outside of the door and another thing caught their eyes.

"That's not Greg," Sara exclaimed. "I'm pretty sure Greg doesn't have a missing thumb."

"And he touched the elevator, I'm gonna go see what prints I can get off of it." Warrick got up and left to go back to the hotel.

Sara rubbed her face. "I'll call Nick, I'm sure he'll relieved to know it wasn't Greg. I know I am."

"I'll call the CIA agent in charge and get him over here to watch the video again; they were probably so set on finding someone, they didn't actually watch it closely. Idiots. Let's get our Greg home."

**At the Hospital**

Nick sat by Greg's bedside, resting his chin in his hands and covering his mouth. The kid looked horrible. His face was bruised worse than the last time; his mouth and nose were covered by an oxygen mask and his breathing was labored and forced. The doctor said he wasn't in a coma, but he'd been unconscious since the other night and wasn't showing signs of waking anytime soon. What pissed him off more was the handcuff chaining Greg's wrists to the bedrail and the guard standing outside the doorway. Greg wasn't a criminal for fucks sake. He would never run let alone murder someone.

"Jesus, Greggo…I'm so sorry I let this happen to you." He grabbed the blonde's hand and squeezed it gently. "We're gonna get the guy who put you through this crap."

There was a knock on the door and the Texan looked up to see Greg's doctor, John Michaels.

"Mr. Stokes, can I have a word?"

"Sure." Nick got up and left the room. "What is it?"

"I'm not sure if the doctor over at the prison told you, but when they found your friend…"

As Nick listened to the doctor, his heart sunk and his stomach churned. He was gonna be sick. Greg had been raped and no one had said anything…not even Greg. He shuddered and looked through the window at his best friend. Apparently things _could_ get worse for the kid.

"Did you…did you do a test?"

"That's why I came down. Everything tested negative, but we still have him on antibiotics in case of infection. He was already pretty sick when he got here, we didn't want him to get any worse. He's lucky."

Greg wasn't lucky. He was far from it right now. Nick rubbed his forehead. "Um, thanks for telling me…I have a question…why isn't he waking up?"

"I'm not sure. He's probably exhausted and his body is taking time to recuperate. It's up to him, but, again, nothing points to him being in a coma. We're just gonna have to wait."

Nick sighed and shook Dr. Michaels' hand before going back into the room. He stood at the end of the bed staring at his little brother. _Why didn't he tell me?_ He went to sit back down and inhaled. "Greg…god, you didn't deserve this. Why didn't you say anything?" He knew the kid wouldn't respond, but it was worth a try. "I'm gonna get you through this buddy. I promise. And I won't break this one."

Suddenly, his phone buzzed in his pocket and he quickly answered it, getting up to go to the window.

"Stokes."

_"Nick, its Sara. I have some good news. We watched the security tapes again and saw the man that followed Agent Ryder into the elevator wasn't Greg."_

"I knew that already, Sara," he huffed.

The woman sighed. _"I know that…I mean, I did too, but there's proof. The guy had a missing thumb and he slipped up and left a print on the elevator door. Warrick's gonna try and see if he can get something from it."_ When Nick didn't respond, Sara frowned. _"Nick? Did you hear me?"_

"Yeah…yeah I heard you. That's great."

_"Is everything okay? Is Greg?"_

"Yeah…I mean no, everything's not okay."

_"What are you talking about?"_

Nick turned around, rubbing the back of his neck. "Greg he…the doctor told me some tests they got back were negative."

_"Nick…what tests?"_

"H-He…he was raped, Sara."

_"What? When?!"_

"Back in the jail when he was first attacked. Fuck. Greg didn't do anything and now because someone framed him, he's going through the worst week of his life."

_"He'll get through this, Nick. We're all gonna help him; it's almost over. Just keep an eye on him."_

Just then, a soft groan came from the bed and Nick spun around. Greg was waking up. "I gotta go, Sara. Keep me updated." He hung up, strode over to the bed and waited eagerly. "Greg?"

The blonde's forehead creased and his head rolled on the pillow. "D-Don't…please don't h-hurt me," he whimpered.

"Greg, you're safe now, okay? You're not in jail anymore."

Greg whimpered again and sluggishly blinked open his eyes. He went to go rub them, but found that he couldn't, his wrist bound to the bed. He started hyperventilating, pulling frantically at the cuffs. Everything was so hazy. The last thing he remembered was not being able to breathe and now he was waking up in a much better, cleaner looking room, yet his hand was chained to the bed. Why was he shackled? Was he in trouble? Oh wait…he was arrested for a murder he didn't even commit.

"Greg! Greg, calm down before you hurt yourself," Nick said, placing a hand on the man's shoulder.

"W-What's…what's going on? Where am I?" Greg gasped frantically after pulling the mask off his face

"You're at the hospital," Nick said in a soothing voice. "Do you remember what happened?"

"S-Sort of. I…I was in the infirmary and I was sleeping when I heard a door shut. It didn't wake me up, but I wasn't really sleeping in the first place. I didn't hear anything after that and started to drift off when something was put over my face…couldn't breathe…tried to fight him off…and then nothing." Greg suddenly gasped and looked at his fingers. "I s-scratched him, Nick. You have to get the DNA!" He started coughing and wheezing and Nick sat the man up, rubbing his back and pressing the oxygen mask back over his mouth.

"Easy bud, take it easy. Just breathe, alright? I'll call Sara over here and she'll see what she can get. Good job, Greggo, I'm proud of you."

Greg smiled tiredly, his breathing going back to normal.

"Get some rest, kid. I'll wake you up when she gets here."

"Thanks Nick," Greg yawned. "Listen…I'm s-sorry about back at the jail…for blaming you. I know you probably wouldn't have been able to do anything to really keep me from getting beat up in there."

The Texan pursed his lips. "I should've though. I'll never stop feeling guilty about it…about what they did to you." He wasn't gonna bring up the other thing until Greg brought it up and felt ready to talk about it.

Greg looked away. _Did Nick know? God, it would be so embarrassing. He couldn't know, right? Who would've told him? He told the nurse in the prison not to say anything._ Hoping Nick wouldn't bring it up, Greg closed his eyes and fell asleep, hoping none of this was a dream and that he was really safe with Nick by his side.

* * *

Sara had come and taken scrapings from underneath Greg's fingernails and surprisingly he had slept through the entire thing. Nick didn't dare wake him up; the poor kid was exhausted and the two older CSI's didn't blame him. Greg didn't know that they knew, but they were gonna give him time to talk about it on his own.

"Warrick got a bunch of prints from the elevator, so hopefully Greg got DNA and we can match them," Sara said quietly while closing the evidence bag tightly. She couldn't believe he was cuffed to the bed. Weren't they all on the same side here? "How is he?"

Nick exhaled through his nose. "Struggling, but eager to help."

"When is he not?" Sara grinned. She went over and smoothed back the blonde's bangs. How could things go to hell in a week? Sometimes their job really sucked. "I'll give you a call when we have something."

"Thanks Sara."

The brunette left and Nick sat, watching television until Greg woke up an hour later.

"S-Sara come yet?" Greg groaned, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

Nick muted the T.V and turned to the younger man. "Yeah, she left an hour ago."

Greg frowned. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"You looked beat, I didn't want to bother you and neither did Sara. She's going to call when she gets something. And she _will_ get something. I'm sure of it. Warrick'll weed out the prints from the elevator and match it to the skin you had underneath your fingernails."

Greg sighed in relief. There was hope. "Thank you, Nick…for everything."

"No problem, buddy. I knew you couldn't have done this. No offense, but you're pretty scrawny, I don't think you would've been able to take down a big CIA agent."

"I actually don't think I've been happier to be small and skinny," Greg laughed, doing so for the first time since he got sick. He stopped though, when his bruised body protested. "Don't…Don't make me laugh," he gave a strained chuckle. "Hurts."

Nick laughed, too, happy that the kid was feeling better enough to joke around…however he still knew that deep inside, Greg was having a hard time coming to terms of what happened when he was first attacked. That he was in a dark place, but holding his façade extremely well.

"Wanna watch a movie or something? I brought a couple in case you were gonna be here for a while."

"How long _am_ I gonna be here?" Greg asked worriedly. "Nick, I don't wanna go back to prison…I can't do it again. I'm not gonna go through that again. Neil Griffin won't leave me alone and the last time…" he paused. Should he go on?

"The last time what, Greggo?" Nick said, scooting closer to the bed. "Greg, you can tell me. Trust me."

The blonde sniffed. "I don't think I have to tell you…I think you already know."

Nick sighed and nodded. "The doctor told me about some tests. They're all negative by the way, but…why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I was embarrassed…that's not something that usually h-happens to a guy. I was just scared…scared you were gonna laugh or think I was pathetic or-"

"Greg, take it easy alright? It's nothing to be embarrassed about, I promise. Stuff like this happens more than you think. You have a right to be scared, buddy, I was scared, too, but you know what? I'm not anymore, because you are never gonna see in the inside of that jail ever again and this whole thing will be nothing but a bad memory in few months. And I would never, _never_ laugh about something so horrible that happened to a man that's like a brother to me. You are far from being pathetic. You are the strongest guy I know, G, and nothing will make me or anyone else look at you differently."

Greg's eyes watered before the dam broke and he started crying in heaves. Nick tightened his lips and brought the kid into a gentle hug, rubbing circles on his back. "You're gonna be okay, Greg. I know you're gonna get through this." They sat like that, Nick holding Greg, until the blonde pulled away, wiping the wetness from his eyes.

"W-What movies do you h-have?" He breathed.

Nick smirked and leaned over to his bag he brought over. "I have all _Back to the Future_s, _The Matrix,_ and all _Terminator_ movies."

Greg chuckled. "How about a _Back to the Future_ marathon?"

"Sounds good to me, buddy." Nick got up and put the DVD into the television, pressed play and dimmed the lights. Greg stayed awake for most of the movie, but an hour and a half later, Nick glanced over to see the kid slumped in the bed, fast asleep. Smiling, the Texan pulled the sheets up to Greg's shoulders to make him more comfortable before he got up and left the room to get a coffee and call Sara to see if she had any news. He wasn't letting Greg go back to that shit hole, no way in hell.

~+CSI+~

Greg felt himself being shook awake and he made himself remember he was not in jail and he was in the hospital so he wouldn't freak out. Blinking open his eyes, the shaking stopped and he peered up to see Nick standing over him with a scared yet excited look on his face.

"Nick?" He said tiredly. "What's going on?"

"Do you know a Jed Laster, Greg?"

"What?"

"Jed Laster, do you know him?"

Greg had to think, but suddenly the name rang a bell. Jed Laster was a fellow student, that looked a lot like him actually, in grad school who cheated on a final exam and Greg ratted him out. He was expelled from college and lost a chance of going into the CIA. He hadn't heard from him since. "Yeah, I know him. Why?"

"Because the skin we got from your fingernails and the prints on the elevator matched him. He's a guard at the prison."

Greg paled, his blood running cold. He _had_ to be the one that opened his door the other night. He _had_ to be the one who tried to kill him with a pillow. "He tried to kill me. He fr-framed me and tried to kill me. Oh god. Now I really can't go back there."

"Don't worry, buddy. You're not. Your name will be cleared in a couple hours and you won't need that godforsaken handcuff anymore."

Greg smiled in relief. "Good."

"Alright, sorry to wake you up," Nick smirked. "Go back to sleep, you look like crap."

Greg rolled his eyes. "I think I'm an exception, huh?"

Nick looked guilty. "Right…sorry."

Greg shook his head. "It's fine. You don't need to walk on eggshells around me, Nick. I'll be okay. You said it yourself."

Nick was proud of his little brother for pushing through this. "You're right. I did. I'll be back okay? We're gonna put a BOLO out on this bastard and bring him in. Might even break his nose along with those two CIA agents that treated you like crap in interrogation."

Greg chuckled as the Texan left the room. He was lucky to have a friend like Nick and a family like the team. He probably wouldn't have been able to survive this without them. He sighed, turning on the TV so the sound of people talking could lull him back to sleep.

Outside the room, Nick ran down the hallway almost running into a doctor pushing a medicine cart. "Sorry man." Right now, he was focused on getting the asshole that set Greg up. But what he didn't know was the man pushing the cart was not a doctor, not a nurse, not even someone that _belonged_ in a hospital. It was a guard wearing a doctor's lab coat…Jed Laster. He smirked when Nick disappeared and before turning the corner towards Greg's room, he shed the jacket and stuffed a syringe filled with cyanide in his pocket.

"Hey man," he said to the guard at the CSI's door. "Chief sent me here to relieve you."

"Sweet," the rookie cop said. "It's about time; my feet are aching and I can only keep my face straight for so long without my jaw starting to hurt."

Jed pat the cop on the back as he left and took the man's place. Once the coast was clear, he took out the syringe, opened the door and stepped in quietly. The kid was asleep. Perfect. Jed locked the door and stood at the end of Greg's bed, staring at him coldly. The little bastard cost him his education, his career, his _life._ And now he was gonna take his.

* * *

The second Greg woke up, he knew something was seriously wrong. The TV was off and he could hear someone else breathing besides him.

"N-Nick?" He spoke, opening his eyes to see a shape standing at the end of his bed.

"Guess again, Greg."

The blonde rubbed his eyes, focusing his vision…and his heart stopped. "Jed. What are you doing here? What do you want?"

"What I want is you dead. When I let those inmates on you a few nights ago, I expected them to kill you, not traumatize you…even though that was a bonus." He moved around the bed and Greg sat up, trying to move away, but found he couldn't because of the shackles. _Fuck._ "When I smothered you with a pillow that night in the infirmary, I wasn't planning on the nurse making her rounds a different time and I definitely wasn't planning on them sending you here. Made my job a little harder."

"W-What job?" Greg choked. _He had to get the call button._

Jed lifted the syringe. "To kill you. This here is cyanide. It works slowly, but I want you to suffer. Struggle to breathe until you're blue in the face and the fear in your eyes being the last thing I see…the smile on my face being the last thing _you_ see."

"Please…why are you doing this?" _Why the hell couldn't he find the button?_

"You ruined my life! I could've been a CIA agent, but you got me kicked out of school and it was on my record forever! I couldn't even get a job as a cop! I'm just a shitty guard at a shitty prison with shitty colleagues and shitty inmates! And you're gonna pay." He stormed up to Greg and lifted the syringe, but Greg rolled off the bed, briefly forgetting that he was still chained and felt something snap in his wrist. Crying out in pain, he knew he must've broken it. He was gonna die if he didn't find that…ah-ha! It was hanging on the side of the bed. He just had to get to it before Jed got him. Breathing through the pain, he reached for the button, but Jed suddenly kicked him in the stomach. Greg curled in on himself, gasping for air and crying as he pulled more on his broken wrist.

"Help!" He wheezed.

"Nobody can hear you…you're pathetic," Jed snickered. "And even if they could, they won't be able to get in."

"Nick!"

"He can't save you now, Greg. No one can."

Little did either of them know, when Greg fell to the floor, the clip for his heart beat fell off…but to the nurse's at their station, they thought he had flat lined. They all ran for his door, but found it was shut and locked.

"Please…don't do this," Greg coughed. He could hear people banging on the door, trying to get in and he hoped that they would.

"It's too late, Greg," Jed grinned, standing over the blonde. He kicked him in the head and Greg blacked out just for a few seconds. And a few seconds was enough for Jed to sit on Greg's stomach and hold him down. "You took away my life and now I'm gonna take away yours."

Nick, followed by Catherine, bolted down the hall after he heard a code blue for Greg's room. This couldn't be happening. He said he wasn't gonna let anything else happen. But here they were again, Greg's life in danger. Laster's phone had been turned off for the majority of the day, but it had just turned on and Sara had tracked it…to the hospital. And when he saw the guard that was supposed to be standing outside Greg's door in the cafeteria, he knew. He skid to a stop in front of the door, jiggling the handle.

"Dammit." Jed was in there…and he had locked the door. "Greg!" In a burst of adrenaline, he stood back and kicked the door down just in time to see Jed injecting Greg with something from a syringe. The Texan pulled out his gun, pointing it at the guard's back. He wanted to empty his clip in this guy so bad.

"Get the hell off him! Hands in the air!"

"Alright, alright. Don't get your panties in a twist." Jed stood up and turned around with a Cheshire grin, dropping the syringe on the ground. The _empty_ syringe. Nick strode over and clocked the man in the nose as hard as he could…just as he promised. After cuffing Jed's hands behind his back, Nick spun him around to face him. "What the fuck did you give him?"

"I'm not saying anything without a lawyer," Jed chuckled.

Nick scowled and pushed the man into the arms of some police officers. "Yeah, you're gonna need one."

"Nick!" Catherine exclaimed and he saw the woman next to the kid with a scared look on her face.

"Greg!" He knelt down next to his little brother and fear spread through his body. Greg's face was extremely pale and eyes closed, his lips, nails and eyelids a dark shade of blue. He was almost hanging from the bed with the cuffs still on his wrist and he was fighting hard to breathe, but with each forced breathe, he didn't take much oxygen in. Whatever Jed had given the kid, it was working fast. "I need help in here!" Catherine handed him handcuff keys and he unlocked them, gently lowering Greg to the floor.

In a blur, the nurses came in and lifted Greg onto a gurney, wheeling him out of the room and down the hallway. Nick swore quietly and looked at the mess in the room. Greg had fought hard. He just hoped he fought hard enough.

~+CSI+~

Greg had been extremely lucky. The nurses had gotten Greg the antidote in time before the cyanide became fatal.

"He'll be exhausted," Dr. Michaels explained. "And no doubt sleeping for the rest of the night and into the morning. The break in his wrist was clean, but he'll have to wear a cast for about six months, depending on how fast it heals. All in all, though, he'll be okay."

"Thanks, doctor," Nick sighed and went back into Greg's room. Sure, the kid was okay physically, but what about mentally? He watched the blonde breathe in and out roughly with the help of a nasal cannula. His face was still pretty pale, but at least he looked like he was actually sleeping peacefully. He hoped anyways.

"It's over, Greggo," Nick breathed. The restraints were gone, the guard was gone, Jed was gone and Greg was a free man. "It's all over. Things will be back to normal in no time."

Six hours later, Nick was resting in his chair, Sara was in another chair and Catherine was staring out the window at the rain and Warrick was out getting everyone coffee. It was early in the morning and they were all waiting for Greg to wake up. He was looking a little better, color returning to his cheeks and his breathing sounding softer and stronger. The CIA agents were going to come by around noon to apologize in person to Greg and Nick had his fist ready to punch them each in the eye for putting Greg through this. Sure, they had evidence, false evidence, but they rushed ahead without really looking at things thoroughly. Greg's life had been changed in the amount of one week. A week that he would never get back…that he would always remember. No apology would really change that.

Greg woke up, his whole body feeling heavy and his throat dry. He felt a lingering pain in his wrist, but it was no doubt dulled with medications. He groaned hoarsely, coughing when his throat burned.

"Greg?"

He blinked open his eyes, seeing a shadow by his bed. Greg started to get agitated, thinking that it was Jed back to finish the job, but as the face finally swam into view past his fog filled mind, he realized it was just Nick.

"Ni-Nick," he whispered tiredly before erupting in another coughing fit.

"Easy bud."

"W-Water?"

"Of course." Nick grabbed a cup filled with cold water with a straw before gently lifting up Greg's head to help him take a few sips. When the blonde was done, he laid back into the bed with an exhausted sigh. He was so tired, but he didn't want to sleep anymore. At least not yet.

"J-Jed," he asked fearfully. "Where is he?"

"Long gone, Greg," Sara said, appearing by his side and stroking his arm. He noticed that the handcuffs were gone so that only meant one thing. He was free.

"You kill him?" Greg asked Nick.

"No…as much I wanted to, and almost did, I didn't. But he's going to jail for the rest of his life, G. You'll never see him again; you're safe."

Greg smiled weakly and closed his eyes. "Thanks…thanks for believing it wasn't me."

"We never doubted you, Greg," Catherine spoke, patting his leg.

Greg reopened his eyes. "Thank you…you guys are all I have. I'm glad you have my back."

"We always will, buddy," Nick said, squeezing the blonde's hand.

Greg sighed, feeling more relaxed. Things were gonna get better. As long as he had his family right there with him.

**FIN**

**Next Prompt is for:****_ feelingsplosion_**

**_Meggysmeg_**

**_SandieBrody_**

**_Anonymous and Guest_**

**_Ashley_**

**_Srta McLean_**

**_Guest (2)_**

**_Tadaa_**

**_Leggomygreggo_**

**_Hadley_**

**_Caprice_**

_**Kalisberg**_

_**Marymel**_

_**SandieBrody**_

_**Guest (3)**_

_**Mandy**_

**Meggysmeg**

**CamilaAlgo**

**_Guest (4)_**

**_Marymel_**

**_Anon (2)_**

**_Unicorn_**

**_Guest (5)_**

**_Meanxruki _**

**_Kitties_**

**_Nico225_**

**_Jojo_**

**_Gully_**

**_Guest (6)_**

_**Katie Shimkus**_

_**Guest (7)**_

_**Zarah**_

**Seven more prompt slots left! Get them in! Thanks for reading!**


	14. Replaced

**Replaced**

_**Prompt for: feelingspolsion: C**__**an you make one after Warrick, and Nick is grieving, and then they get a new agent that makes Nick happier and helps him slowly get over Warrick's death, but then he starts to abuse Greg (for whatever reason, jealousy, a crush, idk), but Greg doesn't want to tell anyone, especially Nick, because he made him so happy all the time? Please have a happy ending with team comforting at the end! Thanks :)**_

**A/N: Super sorry for the long wait, I barely have time to write anymore since I've been getting more hours at work. But school is coming and then I won't be working as much. And for the guest that wondered why I only update once a month whereas my other hurt series I update more: I've said before that I still work fulltime and that plots for some stories come to me faster than others. I'm sorry that I don't update faster, I try my best.**

**Hope ya'll are still reading!**

Everyone was grieving, but Nick had it the worse. Warrick was his best friend, his brother and even though the man's funeral had been a week ago, the news was still fresh in his mind. _Warrick was murdered._ Greg tried to cheer him up, but that just seemed to make it worse. Nick would act cold to him for no reason and his fuse was short; anything could set him off. So the blonde just stayed away on the days that were considered "bad." However, nothing he did made the Texan happier. He thought they were friends, brothers even, but maybe he was wrong. He was mourning, too, but his sadness was pushed to the back in order to be strong for the team. Other people's feelings mattered more than his.

Greg stared at the picture in his locker with a sad sigh. It was of him, Nick and Warrick at a bar on his twenty-seventh birthday. It had been a complete surprise, actually. He had been working three days straight and almost _forgot _it was his birthday until Nick had basically dragged him out of the lab. He begged to just go home since he was exhausted, but the Texan wouldn't let up…and after the surprise and the drinks, he was glad he didn't. Now everything had changed…especially since they already hired a replacement for Warrick. Elliot Ward. No one liked him at first, especially Nick since he said no one could replace Warrick. But as the days went by, Nick started to warm up to the guy…which really hurt Greg, because no matter how hard he had tried, Nick seemed to completely shut him out. He understood it, though. He knew that Nick no doubt wished he was dead instead of Warrick.

Wiping the wetness from his eyes, he gathered his things and stood up to go home. Just as he was exiting the locker room, Elliot came in and purposely pushed him into the wall. He didn't know why, but the man hadn't been nice to him from the start. He decided not to say anything and be on his way.

"You know, Nick wishes it was you."

Greg stopped in his tracks and turned around. "W-What?"

"He said he wished it was you and not Warrick," Elliot smirked. "He would never say it sober of course, but you know how people are when they're drunk. They speak the truth. And the truth is, Nick hates you. He would rather you be dead…and to be honest, I think the whole team would rather it had been you."

Greg swallowed back the tears. "Y-You're lying."

"Have you noticed how Nick is acting towards you? It's almost like he's treating you like _you_ murdered Warrick. He _hates_ you. And you'll never be his brother. In only a couple weeks, I've managed to become that…his best friend. You'll never be that. Everyone is happier with me here."

Greg's face screwed up as he looked down and quickly headed for the exit. He was so occupied on trying to get out of the building before he started crying, that he didn't hear Catherine calling his name. He only stopped when she grabbed his arm.

"Greg? I called your na- whoa. Are you okay?" She forced Greg to look up and she gasped. He was almost crying. "What's wrong?"

The blonde wanted to tell her everything, but he thought about what Elliot said. _Everyone is happier with me here._ And it was true. Elliot was the new Warrick. And if he told Catherine what was going on, then he would get fired and everyone would be sad again…especially Nick and he couldn't have that happen.

"N-Nothing. I'm fine…I mean. I'm not feeling very well."

Catherine frowned and placed a hand on his forehead. "You are a little warm. Go home, sleep it off. I'll see you tomorrow."

Greg forced a smile and left the lab and the second he got into his car, he placed his head on the steering wheel and let the tears flow. How was he gonna get through this? The next shift Greg was quiet and kept to himself. He only talked when he was asked a question. He was glad he was paired up with Sara and not Nick; he didn't think he could be near the Texan and see the hatred in his eyes. Sara seemed to notice something was up and tried to get him to talk at their crime scene, but he didn't say as much as three words before separating himself from her and going to the second floor of the house to look for more evidence. He didn't know why she was trying to talk to him in the first place. Didn't she hate him like everyone else? Didn't she want him dead?

He and Sara had driven separate cars and when Greg pulled into the parking garage at the lab, he took a deep breath. Maybe he should just quit. Everyone would probably be better off without him anyways. Besides…it was _Warrick_ they wanted. Scratching his head, Greg got out of the car and went around to the trunk to get the evidence. As he was, he heard footsteps behind him before something hit him over the head, sending him to the ground.

"Oof!"

He didn't even get a chance to look at his attacker who started kicking him repeatedly in the stomach. He couldn't breathe and his body pulsed in agony; he cried in pain, curling in on himself and soon the beating stopped. He glanced up through his blurry vision and saw Elliot standing over him. _Great._

"W-Why…are you…doing this?" He gasped.

Elliot didn't say anything, he just glared down at him before disappearing as quickly as he came. Greg shivered and lay there for a few moments until he heard someone else's enter the garage. Pulling himself together and wiping his face, Greg grabbed the evidence and headed into the lab, dropping them off with Mandy and then rushing off to the bathroom. After making sure he was alone, Greg stood in front of the mirror and tenderly lifted up his shirt to see huge dark red bruises forming all over his torso.

"Shit." He was gonna be in so much pain for the rest of the day. Letting out a shaky breath, he splashed water on his face, erasing any evidence of

crying and then going to his locker to get some pain pills. And Greg had made up his mind. He was going to quit. He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't pretend to be okay because he was far from it. He was done trying to be strong for the rest of the team; the weight on his chest was just too much to bear. And not to mention Elliot was basically trying to kill him off. He just wanted to go home and that's what he would be doing first thing tomorrow morning. He wouldn't have to find a replacement either…Grissom could easily do that on his own.

He pushed through the day, having to continuously take more pills when the pain flared up every five hours. He steered clear of Elliot and most of the others and when the day came to an end, he went into Grissom's empty office and began writing his resignation.

_Dear Grissom,_

_ I regret to inform you that I will be resigning from my positon as Level 3 CSI of the Las Vegas Crime Lab. I loved this job and I have been eternally grateful for getting this far in my career, but I can't do this anymore. I can't _take_ it anymore. I've tried to be strong for everyone after Warrick was murdered, but as the weeks go by, I can slowly feel myself breaking apart. I'm weak and you don't need a weak person on your team anymore. Elliot is a better friend to everyone, especially Nick than I'll ever be. You deserve better. Thank you for everything. Goodbye._

_Sincerely,_

_Gregory H. Sanders_

When he was finished, he grabbed his things from the locker room and left the building for the last time. The road was pretty much empty besides him and a couple other cars, but that was probably because it was nearly eleven at night. He was glad though, because he was more occupied on figuring out what he was going to do now that he didn't have a job. He would have to find one in California. Maybe another crime lab. He was quitting his job, not his love for science and catching criminals. He came up to a stoplight and sighed. He was gonna have to start all over. When the light turned green, Greg pressed on the gas he pulled forward, but failed to see the large SUV coming at him from the left and barreling into his small car, pushing him through the guardrail. Greg's car rolled multiple times, jolting him around until he finally came to a stop upside down. He groaned, his body stinging, blood dripping down his face, out of his nose and his right eye already becoming swollen. His head pounded furiously and he knew he most likely had a concussion. Who the fuck would hit him? Maybe it had been a drunk driver. Greg stiffly unbuckled his seatbelt and fell to the roof before he sorely crawled out of the smashed window and then collapsed on the ground, resting his cheek in the cool grass in the ditch he was in. He closed his eyes for a minute, trying to breathing through the ache, when he heard crunching footsteps getting closer until they stopped right next to him.

He pried open his eye that wasn't swollen and glanced up at the figure looming over him. He prayed to god it was help.

"How are you not dead?" A familiar voice spoke and Greg's heart nearly stopped. He blinked a few times and sure enough…it was Elliot.

"Oh god." He really _was_ trying to kill him. He let his forehead rest on his fist and tears burned his eyes. "You g-got what you wanted…I'm quitting. H-Happy?"

"No. I'll only be happy when you're dead, Greg."

The blonde flinched when he heard a gun cock.

"W-What are you doing?" He sobbed weakly lifting his head again.

"If you quit, the team will wonder why and ask you questions which you'll break and end up answering. Because you're weak."

"N-No. I promise…I won't t-tell them. I'm…g-getting on a plane t-tomorrow morning. N-No one will…ever see me…again." He coughed violently, blood splattering onto his palm. He needed a hospital.

"I can't risk that Greg."

"They'll find out it was you," Greg snapped.

"Not if I destroy the evidence. And as in the evidence, that means you. I was thinking of throwing you into a tub of hydrochloric acid once you're dead, get rid of your car and pay for a plane ticket with your credit card. Everyone will think you left and that will be the end of it. We're all happy without you Greg, no one will care if you leave."

"Y-You're sick."

"So I've been told," Elliot smirked.

He was about to pull the trigger when sirens were heard in the distance. Someone had called the cops or the ambulance or maybe even both. Thank god.

"You got off lucky, Sanders. But I'll see you again soon."

Greg shuddered as Elliot ran off and drove away. He wasn't safe and he never would be. Maybe dying _would_ be the only way to escape. His last ounce of energy dissipated and he exhaled heavily before submitting to the darkness.

~+CSI+~

**Two Hours Later**

Nick rushed frantically into the waiting room, the others following until they reached the nurse's station. All he could hear in his mind was the phone call and the grave voice on the other end of the line. _Greg was in a car accident. Greg was in a car accident. Greg was in a car accident._ And that was all they left with him. They never said if he was okay, if he was awake, if he was…dead. It fucking scared him; he couldn't lose the kid. Not after Warrick. Not ever.

"Greg Sanders," he breathed when he reached the desk. "I got a call he was brought in because of a car crash?"

"Right. Mr. Stokes, correct?"

"Yeah, is he okay?"

"I'll page the doctor out here and he can fill you in."

Nick nodded and tried to take a deep breath. _Greg had to be okay. Please let him be okay._

They waited for a few minutes before a man with brown hair speckled with gray emerged from the double doors. "You're here for Gregory?"

"Yeah, is he alright? Is he…"

"He's alive and stable. Actually, he's was conscious and awake twenty minutes ago."

"He is? But I was told he was hit by a car. It rolled his own car over."

"Luckily the airbag deployed and he was wearing his seatbelt, otherwise I don't know if he would've survived. He does have a moderate concussion, a broken nose and a bruised, cut face. A couple of his ribs were cracked, but bed rest for the next week or so will help heal them. He also has a low grade fever, but we've got him on antibiotics to take care of it. Other than that, he'll definitely be sore, but he's gonna recover."

Nick sagged in relief. "Thank god. Can we go see him?"

"Sure. He may be knocked out, though, from the pain medications or at least loopy. Oh and another thing, there are some old bruises on his chest and a rib that was previously cracked before the crash."

"How do you know?" Elliot piped up.

"It was already showing stages of healing as were the bruises. It looks like he was attacked or abused. The bruises look like shoeprints."

"Oh my god," Sara said. "Are you sure?"

"Unless there's another explanation, yes I am. I would talk to him and keep a close eye on what's going on. I would hate to see him end up in my ER again in worse condition."

Nick thanked and shook hands with the doctor before sharing a worried look with Catherine.

"He'll be okay man," Elliot said, patting him on the back. "And we'll get the bastard who did this."

"Wait, this wasn't a hit and run," Nick frowned. "Why are you saying that?"

"I'm just assuming that maybe that's what it was. Greg's not that careless is he?"

Nick tightened his lips, becoming a little suspicious of the CSI. "Yeah…I guess he's not."

"Right this way, please," the doctor said, leading them all down the hall. When they got to the man's room, the four CSI's stepped inside the room. Greg looked like shit, but considering that he was in a car accident, it wasn't too bad. His face was pale, littered with cuts, scrapes and a ton of bruises. His face appeared sweaty and his breathing sounded harsh and all in all, he looked like he was in a lot of pain.

"Greg, sweetie?" Catherine whispered softly in case the kid was sleeping. She sat on his bed and carefully grabbed his hand. "Greg?"

Nick swallowed and glanced at Elliot who was standing by the door. It seemed reasonable to stand back since he only knew Greg for a couple of weeks. And in that couple of weeks, Greg became distant, jumpy, and quiet…but he only heard that from Catherine, because he had been a shitty friend and barely talked to the blonde after Warrick.

Greg moaned hoarsely before peeling open his fever-ridden eyes, scanning the room for a threat.

"Greg, it's alright, buddy," Nick said, taking a seat next to the bed. "You're okay now. You're in the hospital."

"H-Hospital?" He coughed, his ribs burning like hell.

"Yeah," Sara said. "Do you remember what happened?"

Greg blinked a few times, looking around at his team and then he saw Elliot…and it all came back to him like being hit by a train…except he wasn't hit by a train, he was hit by a car…driven by Elliot who was trying to get rid of him. But obviously he wasn't going to tell anyone. He _couldn't. _Elliot was there for one, plus no one would believe him. The man was Nick's new best friend…new brother and he didn't want to ruin that.

"Uh, kind of. I guess I was really tired and didn't see the red light." He looked down at his hands so he wouldn't have to see the judgmental eyes of his colleagues or let them see that he was lying. Elliot had looked satisfied though.

"Well, be more careful next time," Catherine sighed, squeezing the blonde's hand. "And if you're that tired, call a cab. This was too close a call."

Nick bit the inside of his cheek. Something was up; Greg had a tell when he lied and he was _definitely _lying right now. He knew more than he was letting on. He was about to bring up the subject of him being attacked when Greg cleared his throat.

"Umm, can I…can I be alone? I'm kinda tired anyways."

The team looked confused, but respected the man's wishes. "We're glad you're okay, Greg," Sara said.

Greg smiled forcefully, but still wouldn't meet their eyes.

Nick gave him one last wary look before following the others out the door and once they were gone, Greg slumped in the bed, tears welling in his eyes. He had to get away from here. It was the only way to be safe. The only way for this all to work; Nick would still have his new best friend and he would still get to live…hopefully.

Everyone went home after visiting Greg in the hospital. They were all worried about the kid, but no one was more worried than Nick. Even the next morning at the lab, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with Greg…mostly because he had lied and Elliot was right. It _had_ been a hit and run. The second car had disappeared and there were no cameras around the area of the accident.

"Hey Nick?" Grissom spoke as he stepped out of his office into the hallway.

"Yeah?"

"Do you know anything about this?" He passed a piece of paper over to the Texan so he could read it. And after he did, his heart dropped to the floor. "What? He's quitting? When was this?"

"I found it on my desk this morning, so I'm assuming he put it there last night before his accident."

"Jesus," he rubbed the back of his neck. Ever since Elliot came, Greg wasn't acting himself. "What's going on with him?"

"I don't know. But go to the hospital and talk to him. Maybe this is still about Warrick."

"Maybe." It could be possible. Greg was holding in all the emotions while being strong for the rest of the team…for him. It didn't leave him time to mourn himself. God, he should've known.

When Nick arrived at the hospital and made his way to Greg's room, he saw that it was occupied by someone else. Horrible thoughts invaded his mind and he numbly went over to the nurse's station.

"Um, excuse me. Where…were is Greg Sanders?" _He can't be dead. Please don't be dead._

The nurse typed into her computer before speaking. "He checked out this morning."

The warmth began to seep back into his body, but he was still confused. "He was in a car accident and you just let him go?"

"He signed out AMA, it was his choice. We tried to make him stay, but he was insistent on leaving."

"Dammit." Now he had no idea where the kid had disappeared to. He left the hospital and was about to call him when he remembered the phone was smashed from the accident. He just prayed that Greg would be at his apartment. And if he was, he would haul him back to the hospital. Unfortunately, Greg's apartment was empty, too. _Now_ Greg was really missing. Breathing heavily, fear of losing another brother, he dialed Grissom's number and told him to news.

"Gris, he wasn't at the hospital and I'm at his place now. No one is here. I'm really worried something bad happened."

"_Alright, come back to the lab. I'll let everyone know what's going on and we'll find him. We're gonna find him, Nick."_

"I hope so." He hung up and wiped his face. "Where are you Greggo?"

~+CSI+~

"You have anything Archie?" Catherine asked. The second Grissom told them all that Greg was missing, she went into mother mode. She wasn't going to rest until he was found and she knew Nick was feeling the same way. When he returned from the hospital, that's all he was focused on…to find the kid.

"Nothing yet. We've flagged his card, so if he makes any purchases we'll- hang on. Something just popped up."

"What?"

"His credit card was used to purchase a…one-way ticket to San Gabriel, California. Where is he going?"

Catherine sighed. "Home." She rushed out of the room and went to go find Nick. Why was Greg going home? The flight was at one and it was quarter of. She prayed they would make it in time to stop him. Grissom and Elliot stayed behind to try and delay the flight while Nick drove Sara and Catherine like a madman to the airport, determined to stop Greg from getting on that flight and forcing him to give them answers. Greg was being abused and once he found out who the hell was doing it, he was going to wring their necks. He almost forgot that Greg was Warrick's friend too. Once they reached the airport, the three flashed their badges to get through security and find the waiting area for the California plane. They ran up to reception, out of breath, startling the gate attendant named Charles.

"The one o'clock plane to San Gabriel. Is it gone yet?" Nick gasped, waiting impatiently for an answer from Charles.

"I'm sorry, you just missed it."

Nick slapped the desk in frustration. "Dammit!" He turned around, running his fingers through his hair. Greg was gone. Now they…wait. The crowd seemed to disperse and Nick saw familiar blonde hair sitting in a chair by the window, back to them. When he got closer, he could see the bandages on the person's hands and the bruises on his face. It was Greg. And he was crying.

"Greggo?"

The blonde flinched but didn't look up, instead hastily wiping the tears from his cheeks.

"Greg." Nick went over and took a seat next to the younger man, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. The kid was trembling violently and it broke the Texan's heart. He glanced up at Catherine and Sara who remained quiet.

Greg sniffed. "I didn't miss the plane," he spoke in a soft shaky voice. "I just couldn't make myself go. I didn't want to."

"Then why are you?" Nick replied and Greg looked up. His black eye was turning an ugly shade of green and yellow as was the other bruises and his eyes, normally bright and happy, appeared haunted and dull. "Greg, what's wrong? Why are you trying to leave?"

"He makes you happy, Nick. I don't want to get in the way of that. I don't want to ruin it for you. He…He made you slowly get over…Warrick's death; something I couldn't even do for you. He's a better friend than I'll ever be."

"Who Greg?" Catherine said.

They watched in silent confusion as Greg looked around the area as if looking for danger. When he was finished, he looked Nick in the eyes. He decided it was time to tell them what happened. Maybe Nick would hear him out. As long as Elliot wasn't around, he'd be safe…hopefully. Taking a deep breath, he told the three what had been happening from start to finish.

"That's why I had to quit," he said. "That's why I have to leave this place. I'm…I'm really scared what Elliot's next move is. I can't keep living my life in fear."

"That son of a bitch," Nick growled. He knew something was off with that guy and he failed to see it…and failing to see it got Greg hurt. Almost killed. "Greg, man, why didn't you say anything?"

Greg wiped his nose. "I didn't…I didn't think you'd believe me. Actually, I wasn't sure you would _want_ to believe me. You all liked him so much and I didn't want you guys to hate me because you think I was jealous."

"Greg, we would've believed you," Sara said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Elliot isn't part of our family, but you are."

"I'm really sorry," he choked.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, bud," Nick said, wrapping his arm around Greg's back. "None of this is your fault. We should've been there for you like you were for us." God, they were horrible friends. Greg had been carrying everyone on his shoulders plus the fear of Elliot hurting him for weeks. "We're the ones who are sorry."

Greg smiled weakly and glanced up at them. "What am I gonna do. I can't go back there."

"Don't worry, sweetie," Catherine said. "We're gonna keep you safe and assign a protective detail to you until we deal with Elliot. I'm gonna go call Grissom and let him know."

"And right now we're gonna bring you back to the hospital," Nick added. "And get you checked out. You have a concussion and cracked ribs, you shouldn't be walking around."

Greg nodded and let Nick help him stand up, leading him out of the airport and to the Denali. Greg was quiet the entire ride to the hospital, but stayed close to Nick and the Texan didn't say anything about it. The kid needed him now more than ever. After getting checked up and making sure none of his ribs were damaged more, the doctor said it was okay for Greg to go home as long as he was in the care of someone. And that was perfect, because Nick was not letting the kid out of his sight. Apparently Elliot had left the lab and hadn't returned; he must've known Greg would tell them everything.

By the time the two got to Nick's apartment, it was almost three and Greg was exhausted and ready to take a nap. After an officer had checked the rooms, Nick went into the guest room to get it ready while Greg laid down on the couch to wait.

"Okay Greg if you want to relax, the guest room is ready." When he got no response he went into the living room and smiled. The man was sprawled out on the cushions fast asleep. _Poor kid. _Sighing, he grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over Greg before flipping on the TV. He muted it when he reached a baseball game and sat in the recliner before glancing over at his friend. And Greg _was_ his friend…his brother and he was going to start treating him like it again. He had been an asshole to the guy after Warrick was murdered; ignoring him, shouting at him and just being unsympathetic…he replaced a complete stranger to fill the void that Warrick left when really Greg was the only brother he needed. And worst of all, Greg was so focused on keeping him happy that he refused to tell anyone that he was being abused by Elliot.

"I'm sorry, Greg. I'm so sorry this happened to you." Things were gonna change.

Greg slept for three hours and Nick didn't blame him. Pretty soon, he let himself fall asleep as well. He just hoped that Greg would forgive him…because right now, he couldn't forgive himself.

~+CSI+~

It was nearly ten when Greg woke up slowly. At first he didn't know where he was, but once he looked around he realized he was at Nick's and everything came back to him. Sitting up and rubbing his face, he saw that the TV was on but silent and Nick was sleeping in a chair next to the couch. With a quiet grunt, he tautly pushed himself up and shuffled to the kitchen to get something to drink. He turned on the small light underneath the cupboard before reaching for glass. But before he could, he felt cold metal kiss the back of his neck. The muzzle of a gun. He froze, his back going rigid and his heart beating painfully against his chest.

"Don't. Say. A word."

Greg's body trembled and he closed his eyes. "What…what are you doing Elliot?"

"Nick is mine, Greg. You can't have him."

"So what, you're gonna kill me? Nick's in the next room he'll-"

"No. Not here at least. We're gonna leave quietly and if you make one sound, I'll blow your brains out and then I'll kill Nick. Because if I can't have him, no one can."

Greg swallowed and nodded. He wasn't gonna get Nick killed and as much as he didn't want to die, maybe it would be for the best. It would all be over.

"Walk," Elliot growled, pushing the gun into Greg's back. The blonde cooperated and headed towards the door. Elliot must've done something to the cop if they were going out the front way. Just as he was about to reach for the doorknob, he heard the gun cock and he flinched.

"W-What are you-"

"Drop the gun, Elliot and get the hell away from him."

Wait, the gun hadn't been Elliot's. It was Nick. He was suddenly spun around violently and Elliot's arm wrapped around his neck. He wheezed, his air supply being cut off and looked ahead, seeing Nick with an angry glare on his face, gun pointed towards them.

"Let him go," Nick growled again. He had been sleeping lightly when he heard voices in the kitchen and he knew it wasn't just Greg in the apartment anymore. He got up slowly, grabbing his gun from the safe and quietly made his way out into the hallway just in time to see Elliot forcing Greg towards the door at gunpoint.

"_You_ put the gun down, Nick. I don't want to hurt you. It's Greg that's in the way. Once I get rid of him we can be brothers."

"We'll _never_ be brothers, you asshole," Nick seethed. "Greg is the only brother I'll ever need."

"You don't mean that Nick. What about the football game we went to last week? Or the bar? You let me stay the night here! What was that?!"

"I was wrong to use you to fill Warrick's place. Yeah, you helped me get over him, but at what cost? You nearly killed Greg…the one person who means a hell of a lot more than you ever will. Warrick cared about both of us, that's what brothers do; he took care of _both_ of us. Something that you're failing at. Something that you could never do in a million years no matter how hard you try."

Elliot scowled. "Stop it! Stop lying!"

"I'm not lying. Now if you don't let him go I'll-"

"You'll what Nick. You shoot me, you'll have to shoot your "brother" too."

The gun wavered in Nick's hand before he tightened his grip. "Just let him go, Elliot. No one has to get hurt."

"Too late. Someone already did." Elliot cocked the gun and pressed it against Greg's temple.

Nick breathed heavily and looked into Greg's brown, fearful eyes. The blonde suddenly nodded and he realized what the kid wanted him to do. He responded back silently, his eyes saying no. He was _not_ going to shoot through kid even though it might be the only thing to do to bring Elliot down. He would hate himself for life no matter what the outcome would be.

"Come on, Elliot. Don't make me do this," he said, his voice cracking. He couldn't bring himself to hurt Greg more than he already did. The younger man caught his eyes again and nodded, mouthing 'do it' and Nick chin trembled. There was nothing else he could do. Taking a deep breath, he squeezed his finger down on the trigger.

"I'm sorry."

_Bang!_

The gun went off and both Greg and Elliot crumpled to the ground. Nick was shocked for a moment before he ran over to them, fearing that he might've just killed his best friend. The bullet had gone through Greg's left chest and straight into the heart of Elliot. He was dead. But Greg was not…however he would be soon if he didn't stop the bleeding. He kicked Elliot's gun under the table before placing his on top and kneeling down next to the blonde who was gasping for air. _Probably hit a lung._

"Greg? Greggo, can you hear me?" He choked, pressing down on the man's wound. He quickly dialed 911, told them the location and then hung up.

Greg's eyes flickered open and looked around. "Did you get him?"

"Yeah man, he's dead. Shit, I'm sorry; I'm so sorry." Tears slipped down his cheeks; there was so much blood. Greg suddenly grabbed his wrist weakly and he looked over to see the man staring at him sadly.

"Don't ap-apologize. I-It's okay. I know…I know this won't bring W-Warrick back, but I know you would've rather it had been me who had died and not h-him. Elliot said so."

It was a stake to the heart making all his blood run cold. He couldn't believe that Greg would think that…though he didn't do much to make him _not_ think that. It was what he had led him to believe when he was so cold and distant when all the kid was trying to do was help him grieve. "Greg I…I would never in a million years want you to die. Don't believe a fucking word that bastard said to you. What happened with Warrick was tragic and I'll miss him like hell because he was my brother, but you are too. And you're my only one left. If I lost you…it would _destroy _me, Greg. I wouldn't be able to handle it. I'm supposed to be protecting you and I did a pretty shitty job doing so. But from now on, I'm gonna be a better brother to you no matter what."

Greg blinked. "You really m-mean that?"

"Of course buddy. You're my little brother and nothing and no one can change that."

Greg smiled until it turned into a grimace before he began coughing violently, blood spraying onto his lips.

"Fuck," Nick whispered, pressing harder on the wound. "Just hang on, buddy. Please hang on." There was so much blood…too much that he could staunch on his own. He leaned forward to put on more pressure and Greg whimpered, digging his nails into Nick's skin. "Sorry man. I'm sorry. I gotta stop the bleeding." He would never forgive himself if Greg died.

"S'okay," Greg slurred, his eyes beginning to close and his breathing was shallow. His grip on Nick's arm weakened and it felt like he was slowly leaving his own body. He heard Nick's voice, but it was so far away like they were each on different ends of a tunnel.

"Greg? Greg, come on kid don't close your eyes. Come on." He slapped Greg's paling cheek, smearing blood on his face. "Talk to me."

"Tired. Hurts."

"I know, but you can't fall asleep yet." He heard sirens in the distance and he grinned. "The ambulance is almost here."

Greg blinked and looked up at Nick.

"That's it, G. Just look at me, alright? Just keep looking at me."

Greg nodded and the last thing he remembered was the door swinging open, Nick's eyes, a bright light and then nothing.

~+CSI+~

"He's gonna be fine, Mr. Stokes," the doctor smiled. "The bullet nicked his lung and he lost a lot of blood, but the lung was repaired and we transfused him a couple pints. He's breathing on his own and awake but groggy."

"Thank you," Nick sighed, wiping a hand down his face. Greg was going to be okay. Once the medics kicked down the door, Greg succumbed to the blood loss and passed out. The officer who had been standing outside his door had been knocked unconscious but was doing okay as of now. His apartment was now a crime scene and would be for a few days. Even when everything was clear, he would still want to be away from there for a while. It would bring back too many horrible memories…he would always think of it as the place where he had to shoot Greg. He would always know where there was the giant puddle of the kid's blood.

Nick walked into Greg's room and smiled. The blonde looked a lot better now even though his face was still a bit gray and there were little beads of sweat of his forehead.

"Greg?"

The man listlessly parted his eyes and when he saw Nick at the end of his bed, he smiled tiredly. "Hey."

"Hey," the Texan replied. He stared at the bandage on Greg's chest, a dot of blood seeping through the gauze. "God, I'm so sorry I shot you." He sat down in the chair feeling guilty.

"It's fine Nick. It was for a good reason. Elliot wasn't going to give up. Besides, I said that you could."

"It still doesn't make me feel any better. You could've died. Like all those other times when Elliot was hurting you. You really should've told me Greg."

"Nick-"

"No, let me finish. No matter how happy someone is making me, I'll always listen to you first over them. _Always._ We're brothers, Greggo. 'Rick may be gone, but we've still got each other. I was being a dick to you these past few weeks when all you did was try to help me. Warrick was your friend, too. We were all brothers and you needed to grieve as much as I did. I never should've treated you like you were nothing. You were alone and hurting and instead of taking care of your own feelings, you put them aside to help everyone else. You were there for me even though I wasn't there for you when I should've been. I've been selfish; I know you need me as much as I need you."

Greg swallowed, tears burning his eyes as he looked down at his hands. "I didn't want to say anything because…after Elliot came, in a couple days you were joking and laughing again. And once I saw that, I didn't want to get him fired and you go back to being so upset. I thought that if I did tell someone, you would get mad because you lost another friend."

"Greg, Elliot will never be my friend. _You_ are my friend, my brother. No one can replace Warrick but no one can replace you either. I promise." He placed a hand on top of Greg's and squeezed it.

Greg sniffed and before he knew it, Nick was bringing him into a tight embrace and Greg let the dam break. He buried his face into Nick's shoulder and cried for a good five minutes. The Texan rubbed circles on Greg's trembling back, hugging him tighter yet being gentle at the same time.

"We're gonna be okay, Greggo. I'll be here for you, I promise."

Catherine and Sara suddenly came into the room and went up to Greg each wrapping their arms around Nick and Greg.

"We're all here for you Greg," Catherine whispered. She was gonna make damn sure this never happened again. They almost lost one of their own _again _and that wasn't okay. That will _never_ be okay. Greg had held them all on his shoulders, being strong when everyone else wasn't and now it was there turn to be strong for him. To carry him on _their_ shoulders for a while. They were stronger as a family after all.

**FIN**

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	15. Shadows of the Past

**Shadows of the Past**

**A/N: I'm sooo sorry for the long wait, it was too long. But the first week of school is always hectic and I had no time to write. I apologize again, because I really want to fulfill these prompts before I go abroad in January! Hopefully you're all still reading! Thanks for being patient!**

_**Prompt for: Meggysmeg: **__**What if in the book of shadows when Greg is in the Chem lab and sees the explosion it starts to bring back bad memories then things just start to go downhill from there.**_

**Enjoy! (Sort of an AU since Greg didn't know Chet)**

Greg walked down the hallway of Jefferson High School, following the principal, Ms. Meadows, with an eager grin on his face. His longtime friend, Chet Mesner, invited him to help teach a science class and he gladly accepted. He hadn't been in a high school classroom in ages and he was super excited to be in on the experiment Chet was conducting.

"244…245…246…ah, 247," Ms. Meadows smiled, stopping in front of the classroom door. "He should be in there probably testing one of his experiments again. I know he's excited to have a CSI in the class, Mr. Sanders."

Greg chuckled. "Call me Greg and I think I might be more excited than him. I never taught kids before."

Ms. Meadows laughed and reached for the doorknob. "Well good luck. You're-"

All of a sudden, the door flew open with a bang and heat sprayed in their faces; the force of the explosion throwing them back and the floor. Greg hit his head on the ground and became dazed, but he could hear someone screaming bloody murder from somewhere. Blinking his eyes to focus, he saw a ball of fire running down the hall and then realized the ball of fire was a person. _Chet._

"Oh my god." He quickly scrambled to his feet and watched in complete shock as his friend stumbled to his knees. The janitor tried to bat the flames away with a blanket, but not before Chet succumbed to the pain and burned to death. But that wasn't the only thing that shook him. It brought back memories…memories of the lab explosion twelve years ago. The heat, the searing pain in his back…the disgusting scars. The smoke and tears burned his eyes as the shock subsided. But there was a remaining stinging in his back where the scars had been after healing and he hoped that the revived memories didn't bring back the pain as well.

"Chet," he whispered. It was a horrible way to go. Swallowing thickly, he shakily pulled out his phone and called Russell. He had a feeling that this was no accident.

_"Greg!" _D.B answered. _"Aren't you supposed to be teaching a science class right now?"_

"Y-Yeah, uh, those plans changed."

_"You okay, kid? You sound different."_

"I need the team down here…something happened. One of the teachers was murdered…burned alive."

_"Alright, I'll send Morgan down. You sure you're okay?"_

Greg washed a hand down his face, trying to control his breathing. "I'm good…just a little shaken. Otherwise, just a few cuts and bruises." His entire body ached from being thrown to the floor and his clothes were singed from the fire.

_"Okay, just hang tight."_

"Thanks D.B." He hung up and exhaled. There was a crowd of students around the burnt body until a bunch of teachers herded them back while Ms. Meadows was on the phone with 911. Today definitely didn't go as planned.

~+CSI+~

Morgan noticed that something was off with Greg the second she saw him. He was ghostly pale, his hands visibly shaking and distant. She tried to joke with him, but barely made an attempt to joke back. There were a few slightly bleeding cuts on his face but he didn't seem to notice. However, it could be understandable; he did just watch someone he knew burn to death.

"Are you okay?" She said resting a gentle hand on the small of his back. He unexpectedly flinched, his face twisting in pain even though he tried his hardest to hide it. "What's wrong?!"

"N-Nothing. Just a little sore from when I hit the ground."

Morgan looked skeptical. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'll be right back, I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick before we head out." He was just barely holding it together. Usually, he wouldn't mind being touched by Morgan; he had a huge crush on her. But that small touch sent sparks of agonizing pain through his scars. He immediately felt nauseous and if he didn't get to the bathroom soon, he was going to puke all over the crime scene. The smell of Chet's burning flesh sickened him.

"Okay." Morgan watched as Greg turned the corner towards the men's bathroom. Something was off about him and she was going to find out at some point.

Once he was out of sight of everyone, Greg rushed down the hall and burst into the men's bathroom. He stumbled over to the toilet and fell to his knees, hunching over the bowl. His scars were burning…stinging; his chest felt tight and he could hardly breathe. Blinking furiously, Greg dry heaved violently, willing something to come out. Tears dripped down his face, mixing in with the sweat. Why was this happening to him? After the trembling and nausea passed, Greg pushed himself to his feet and shuffled to the sink, staring in the mirror. He looked like shit and he couldn't believe it had only been half an hour since everything happened. His eyes were puffy and his face was gray. He shuddered; how the hell was he gonna pass this off? Splashing cold water on his face, he took a couple deep breaths to compose himself; it was gonna have to do. He just hoped Morgan or the rest of the team wouldn't ask any questions. And he was just going to have to take some pain pills throughout the day to manage if it caused any more problems. _Here we go._ Greg stepped out of bathroom and headed back towards the crime scene.

"Oh my god," Morgan gasped when she saw him. "Greg you are not okay." His eyes were red-rimmed and his face was white as a sheet.

"Well, don't you think it's acceptable for someone who watched his friend die?!" He snapped. The throbbing was making him irritated and he felt really bad for being short with the woman.

Morgan looked shocked and hurt and Greg sagged, rubbing his forehead. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you."

Morgan nodded, grabbing his hand and squeezing it gently with a smile. "It's okay, Greg. I'm sorry about your friend."

He forced a half smile and Morgan let go of his hand so he could leave. "I'm fine; don't worry about me. I'll meet you back at the lab, okay?" When Greg turned his back to her, the smile fell. He wasn't gonna make it through this case let alone the rest of the day if he didn't get things under control. Rubbing his eyes, he left the building, got into the Denali and drove away.

~+C+~

Greg rubbed his forehead and stared at Chet's burned body quietly. He couldn't believe this had happened. Doc Robbins gave him some time alone, knowing that this was the second friend he lost in the past two years. Apparently, Morgan had found an anonymous threatening text message on Chet's phone. _Epic fail Messner, do the right thing or suffer the consequences._ Greg figured that whoever sent the message probably was the one who killed Chet. It pissed him off that someone would do such a thing to a human being. But what was worse was the fact that Chet was burned completely beyond recognition. It reminded him too much of himself when he was in the explosion; the fire, the pain, the heat. He squeezed his eyes shut, the tingling in his back returning. Greg shivered with a groan. Why the fuck did this have to happen? His breathing became heavy and he swayed a little feeling sick.

"Hey, you alright bud?"

_Shit. It was Nick._

"Greg?"

Greg lifted his head and moved before Nick had a chance to put a hand on his shoulder. He didn't want to risk crying out in pain if he touched one of the scars.

"Yeah, I'm f-fine," he kept his voice low and tried to keep it from wavering. He didn't make eye contact…he couldn't because he knew Nick would know something was wrong.

"I'm sorry about your friend."

"Thanks. Did you need something?" He didn't mean to be harsh, but he wanted him to leave so he could suffer alone.

"Um, yeah we found out who sent the text. Russell is interviewing him now. In the meantime, I'm going to Chet's house…we think…we believe he was dealing meth."

"What?!" Greg blurted out. "No, that's not Chet. He wouldn't do that."

Nick sighed. "You haven't seen him in years, Greg, who knows what he could've gotten into."

Greg shook his head stubbornly. "I won't believe it. I'm going with you." He pushed past the Texan and left autopsy to go get his stuff.

Nick frowned in confusion. He got that Greg just lost a good friend, but he seemed a little different. Morgan had told him about what happened before and during the crime scene, but something was really off. Glancing at the burnt body, he too left the room and headed upstairs.

The ride to the house was awkwardly silent. Even when Nick put on country music, Greg made no move to change it or even complain about it like he always did. In fact, it looked like he had zoned out completely, staring out the window. This wasn't the Greg he had seen yesterday. They walked into the house and found that it was completely clear of drugs…but then they went out back to the shed and that's when things got weird.

"What the hell?" Nick muttered, shining his flashlight into the dark room. The beam spilled on the contents and he shook his head. "Jesus, Greg, what was your friend into?"

Greg had to agree that what he was seeing was pretty bizarre. Flags with pentagrams drawn on them draped the walls; there was a knife with blood on an altar next to a cauldron and then what looked like potions and a book called _The Book of Shadows._

"Apparently he's a witch," Greg replied in shock. This was a new one.

~+CSI+~

Greg rested his head on the cold locker, his hands shaking and his chest tight. He was on the verge of another panic attack and he was trying to push it away. He had excused himself from layout room when he Sara and Russell were looking over the crime scene photos and the video that Mason, a kid that had been taping at the time of the incident, had handed over to them. He watched it all over again…experiencing it all over again. His back felt like it was being stabbed by millions of needles. Whimpering, he tried to take a deep breath but found that he couldn't…he couldn't breathe. _Oh god._ He stood up straight and tried to loosen the buttons on his shirt, but his hands were shaking too damn much. Coughing raggedly, his vision blurred and knew he was about to pass out.

_"Breathe, Greg! Greg!"_

Was that his voice? Wait, no he didn't have an accent. Blinking through the haze, he saw Nick's worried face swimming into view.

"N-Nick?" Greg wheezed. He felt hands on his shoulders, being pushed down onto the bench. The same hands pat and rubbed his back, trying to get him to calm down. He was so lightheaded, that Nick touching his scars didn't even hurt.

"Take deep breaths, Greggo. Deep breaths. I'm right here."

Nick had been walking down the hall to head for the layout room with new information when he passed the locker room. He heard strangled gasps for breaths and frowned, turning around to see Greg trying to get his buttons undone, but failing. He looked like he was about to pass out…or he was having a panic attack. Dropping the folders on the end of the bench, he went in and gently grabbed the blonde's arms. He frantically shouted at the man to breathe seeing as his lips were turning a light shade of blue. When Greg finally recognized he was there, Nick sat him on the bench and rubbed circles on his back. He had no idea what was going on, but he knew he didn't want Greg to stop breathing. After a few minutes, the blonde's breathing seemed to return to normal and Nick stood up, grabbing a water bottle from his locker. He handed it to Greg and the man took a few sips to clear his throat.

"Are you okay?" Nick said when Greg looked ready to talk.

The younger man nodded.

"Greg. Come on, you can tell me." The kid's hands were shaking violently. Of course he wasn't okay.

"I just…I don't feel well. After seeing Chet like that…" maybe he should tell Nick. He just wouldn't say anything about the scars. _No one_ knew about the scars and he planned to keep it that way. "It brought back memories."

"Memories?" And then it dawned on Nick. The explosion in the lab that Catherine had accidently caused. Shit, he should've known. "Greg, god, why didn't you say anything? I could've told Russell. He could've taken you off the case."

"I was trying to keep it under wraps. Chet was my friend and I wanted to get him justice, but…I feel like crap."

"You look it too, no offense." Greg's face was flushed like he was getting a fever.

The blonde chuckled lightly. "Thanks."

"Seriously, man, if you're not feeling well, you should just go home early. D.B will understand. We got it covered from here."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Just get better." _It scares me to see you this way._ "Will you be okay to drive?"  
Greg wiped his face. "Yeah, don't worry." Greg turned and stumbled into the doorframe.

Nick pursed his lips. "You know what? I'll drive you home. I don't want to get a call from the hospital saying that you crashed your car."

Greg rolled his eyes. "Fine."

He fell asleep in the car and he was glad he didn't try to drive home on his own. Once Nick woke him up and helped him out, Greg thanked him and stretched.

"I'll call you tomorrow to see how you're doing and if I'll need to get you."

The blonde nodded and slowly walked up the stairs into the building. By the time he reached his apartment, he was winded and exhausted. His stomach cramped and that sharp stabbing returned to his back. _Why, why, why._ Tears trickled out of his eyes, evaporating on his hot cheeks. He could no longer keep himself upright and Greg collapsed on the ground, throwing up whatever he had eaten in the last day. _Great._ He crawled over to the bathroom and heaved some more until he was completely drained of all of his energy. His body trembled and his vision doubled before his temperature spiked. He cried out and curled up on the cold floor; when that didn't help, he pulled his shirt over his head so that his back was bare and then laid down. It felt better, but he was already unconscious before he could relish the sensation.

Seven hours later, Nick hung up his phone for the third time after calling Greg. The man was still not answering his phone and while he could be sleeping, he couldn't help feel that something was wrong. If Greg didn't answer the next time he called, he was going over. Nick pressed redial and put the phone to his ear.

"Come on, Greggo, pick up the phone."

Something shrill penetrated the fog in his head. Greg moaned and he twitched; the sweat trickled down his back. What the _hell_ was that noise? And why wouldn't it stop?

"Ugh." He peeled open his sore eyes and was met with a bright, _annoying_ light. He couldn't remember where he was, but it looked like a bathroom. _His_ bathroom. He must've passed out here who knows how long ago. The ringing started up again and it took him a few seconds to realize it was his phone. It was on the floor underneath the toilet and he reach for it tiredly, pressing the metal to his burning ear.

"H-Hello?"

_"Greg!"_

"N-Not so loud. Head hurts."

_"Still sick, bud? I was just calling to see how you were doing, but obviously not well, huh."_

The blonde grunted in pain, a slight whimper passing his lips. The needles were back. He was so hot, surely he was back in that lab being thrown through the glass by the force.

_"Greg? Buddy, are you okay?"_ When Greg didn't respond, Nick continued. _"I'm coming over."_

"No!" He managed to croak out. "I'm f-fine. Just throwing up…a lot. Don't think you'll want t-to see that."

Nick hesitated, but sighed. _"Okay. I'll call later, alright?"_

_"Y-Yeah. Okay."_ He hung up and let the phone clatter on the ground, resting his forehead on his arm. After he felt like he could get up, Greg got to his hands and knees before grabbing the basin of the sink to pull himself to his feet. Staring into the mirror, he was glad he had gone home; his face was void of all color besides the purple bags underneath his eyes. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he blinked a couple times…and then something changed. In the mirror, he saw behind him flames engulfing his apartment. He gasped in horror as he spun around to see that he wasn't imagining it. The fire crackled, burning the walls and slowly crawled into his bathroom. Greg stepped back, bumping into the sink so he could go no further. His lungs tightened and he coughed when smoke entered his nose. His back throbbed angrily, nearly sending him to the ground when white flashed through his vision. He had to get out before-

_Boom!_

He was thrown to the ground with the force of the explosion. He hit his head on the floor with a _thunk _and it caused him to black out for a second…a second that gave the flames time to creep up on him like a blanket. His entire body was boiling like he was in an oven; he gasped for air that wouldn't enter his lungs. He needed to call Nick back…he needed to tell him he wasn't okay and that he was dying. But his phone was already destroyed by the fire and he knew that this was it. He was burning alive.

~+C+~

Nick stared at his phone at the end of his shift, debating on whether he should call Greg or just head over. The kid had sounded like shit earlier and probably didn't want to be bothered, but there was a niggling feeling at the back of his head that whatever was wrong with Greg was more than just a fever. Maybe he was hurt from that explosion more than he was letting on? In that case, maybe he should just go there unannounced; after all, Greg was the king of hiding things. Biting the inside of his cheek, Nick gathered his things from his locker and headed for the exit.

"Hey Nick, wait up!"

The Texan turned around to see Morgan trotting after him.

"Are you going over to Greg's?"  
He frowned. "How did you know?"

"Because I heard you on the phone with him earlier. You're worried too, aren't you?"

Nick nodded.

"Ever since the scene, he hasn't been himself. What if he was hurt worse than he said he was?"

"I was thinking the exact same thing."

"I'm coming with you," she demanded and Nick didn't protest.

When they got to Greg's door, Nick pounded on it, not caring if he woke the kid up. He needed answers.

"Greggo! Answer the door man!"

"Did you call him?" Morgan asked, fishing the spare keys from her jacket.

"No…why do you have a key to his apartment?"

Morgan blushed and Nick grinned a little. "Are you-?"

"Later, Nick." She put the key into the doorknob and unlocked it. "Greg?" The two stepped into the quiet apartment and made their way to the bedroom…but it was empty. They shared a nervous look before splitting up to cover more of the room. Morgan made her way to the bathroom and what she saw was heart-breaking. Greg was on the floor, half dressed and sweating profusely and his face was scrunched up in pain.

"Oh my god, Greg!" She dropped her things and fell to her knees besides the man. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she could feel that he was burning up yet shivering violently. She cupped his sweaty face, stroking his cheek with her thumb. "Greg, can you hear me? Nick!"

The Texan rushed over and swore. "Jesus, what the hell happened?"

"I don't know, but he's burning up and barely breathing. He needs a hospital," Morgan sniffed. The man was really sick. When she went to bring his body into her lap, something caught her eye.

"Nick what is that?"

The older man was just about to call an ambulance when he saw what Morgan was referring to. They were scars. Huge pink ones running down the side of Greg's back.

"Where did those come from?"

"I don't know, but they couldn't have been from yesterday. They look old."

Greg whimpered when Morgan lightly touched them and she pulled away. "Did you call an ambulance?"

Nick was already on the phone while Morgan stroked the soaked strands of hair from Greg's forehead. "Greg, please wake up."

"Dammit, the ambulance is gonna be stuck in traffic. There's an accident on the freeway and it might take at least fifteen minutes for it to get here."

"Nick, he might not have that long. Who knows what's wrong with him."

The Texan sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Alright, let's get him up. I know a shortcut."

Morgan nodded and she and Nick took each of Greg's arms and draped them over their shoulders before basically dragging the man out the door. Greg's head rolled, chin resting on his chest. After five minutes of struggling to get down the stairs, the three finally reached the car completely breathless. Greg was wheezing now and they knew there wasn't a lot of time left. They gently laid him in the back seat before Nick went to the driver's seat and Morgan slid in with Greg, letting his head rest on her lap. Nick peeled out from the curb and sped down the road towards the hospital.

Morgan glanced down the man and sighed. "What's the matter with him?" Greg was shivering like he was in a freezer, but burning up like a furnace. She rested her hand on top of the blonde's forehead, hoping to help him relax.

"I don't know." Nick was scared. Greg was really sick and there was really nothing he could do to help.

Greg's body tensed in Morgan's hold, his chest heaving with choked breaths. He moaned and his head rolled on the woman's thigh.

"Greg, can you hear me?" _Please._

It took a few moments, but Greg's eyes flickered open before they became wide as saucers. They were bright with the fever and fear. "W-What's…where am I?" He gasped.

"Greg, calm down," the younger CSI soothed, stroking his hair back. "You're okay. It's just me, Morgan."

"H-Hot…in a fire…house burned down."

Morgan's forehead creased. The fever was clearly making Greg delusional. "What fire?"

"Explosion," Greg gasped. "Chest…can't breathe…I'm burning…scars." He tried to get up out of Morgan's hold, starting to panic.

"Greg! Calm down! Please calm down, you're okay!"

The blonde was wheezing really violently and before Morgan had a chance to do anything else, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body twitched with intense spasms. Morgan sobbed, scared that she was witnessing this; the man was so vulnerable.

"Nick…drive faster!" She tried to restrain Greg's limbs as much as she could, but it was nearly impossible in a mobile car. "Oh god. Please hurry, Nick!" Greg seized in her arms as she continued to cry. This was the scariest situation she had been in since two years ago when she and Ellie were kidnapped and chained to beds. What if something was terribly wrong? What if she lost Greg? She couldn't lose him…she loved him.

"I love you, Greg," she whispered. "Please don't leave me."

~+CSI+~

Greg had seizure for the whole five minute ride until they got to the hospital and everything stopped. And not just not the convulsions…his breathing too. Morgan freaked out and started bawling, trying to wake him up while Nick ran into the emergency, shouting at the top of his lungs for help. The blonde was gently pulled out of the backseat and placed on a gurney, being taken away by a bunch of nurses. When he disappeared, Morgan cried into Nick's chest, the Texan letting tears fall as well. Greg was his little brother no matter how old they were and he failed to see how sick he was. Failed to see that he was struggling because of this damn case. He squeezed Morgan tighter, praying that Greg was going to live though this.

Greg was pushed down the hall, Dr. Perez shouting off orders to the nurses to try and save his life. He started breathing, but it was weak…probably a matter of time before he stopped again.

"Temperature 104° and rising, barely breathing and oxygen levels are extremely low. We need to get his lungs working again!" The nurse placed an ambu-bag over Greg's face, pumping air into his lungs while they rushed towards the operation room with the ice bath ready to go. Once they got into the room, the team of nurses lifted Greg from the gurney and placed him in the ice water. What worried Dr. Perez was that Greg didn't even flinch and she knew that the fever had gotten dangerously high. Sighing sadly, she gestured to the nurse to keep an eye on him while she went to go talk to the two people that brought the man in.

"Page me if he starts to wake up."

"Yes doctor."

Morgan paced nervously, trying to keep the tears at bay. Greg had nearly died in her arms…what if they couldn't do anything? What if his fever kept climbing?

"Morgan," Nick whispered, stopping her in her tracks. "He's gonna be okay. It's Greg, he's strong."

She sniffed, wiping her eyes. "I know he is."

"Who's here for Gregory Sanders?"

The two spun around to see a brunette women walking into the room. They wasted no time going up to her, eager for answers.

"Are you the ones who brought in Mr. Sanders?" The doctor asked.

"Yes," Morgan breathed. "Is he okay?"

"Right now we are trying to get his fever down. It's extremely high nearly to a point where his brain could fry. We've got him in an ice bath at the moment to bring it down, unfortunately he didn't respond when we put him in the water, but we're hoping when the temperature is at a safer level he'll start to rouse. When he does wake up, it might be helpful for him to have a familiar face around so he doesn't become delirious. Would one of you like to come down?"

The two CSI's shared look before Nick put a hand on Morgan's shoulder. "Go ahead. I'll call the others to let them know what's going on."

The blonde nodded and followed the doctor towards the back to where Greg was and when she saw him, her heart broke. "Oh Greg." The man was slumped in the ice bath, head back and hair plastered to his pale forehead.

"You can sit on this stool next to him. Once he starts shivering, it means his temperature is going down and he'll be easier to wake up."

Morgan nodded and took a seat, staring sadly at the older man. He looked miserable. She brushed back the wet strands of hair before cupping his cheek. "Please don't leave me Greg…I love you." She hoped for a response, but Greg remained silent. Pursing her lips, she sat there for seven minutes before the man's body gradually began twitching and shivering. A small moan slipped through Greg's lips, his head rolling on his shoulders.

"Greg? Can you hear me?"

The blonde's face scrunched up, sensing his surroundings until his left eye cracked open, followed by his right. His usually bright brown orbs were dull and glazed over, Morgan wasn't sure if he would recognize her.

"Greg?"

Greg blinked and glanced to his right. He couldn't think straight…he was hot and cold at the same time, he had no idea what the hell was going on. But then he heard a voice…a very familiar voice. It was Morgan. Her beautiful voice swam into his vision and he smiled weakly.

"Morg'n?" He said hoarsely.

She smiled in relief and ran her fingers through his hair. "Hey."

"Waz goin' on?"

"You have a really high fever."

"S'cold."

"The doctor put you in an ice bath to bring down your temperature."

It took a minute to process, but Greg finally realized he wasn't wearing a shirt…and that Morgan had probably seen his scars. Just the thought of them made his back sting. He winced and Morgan squeezed his hand comfortingly.

"You okay, Greg?"

"Y-You saw t-them…didn't y-you."

Morgan knew what he was talking about. "Yes. But that doesn't make me think any different of you, Greg."

He looked away, clearly embarrassed and Morgan gently grabbed his chin. "Hey, look at me."

Greg glanced over, shivering violently and his eyes having a hard time stay open, no doubt exhausted. "I don't care about those, alright? I like you for who you are…I…I love you."

Greg's eyes went wide. "You what?"

But before she had time to answer, the doctor came over and placed a hand on his shoulder. He suddenly flinched, her touch burning hot. He blinked at her and gasped; he had to be fucking hallucinating, yet it seemed so real. It was Chet and he was standing beside him in a flaming ball of fire.

"Oh my god." He tried to get away from the heat, but he was trapped in the ice.

"It should've been you, Greg." Chet hissed.

"N-No…I'm sorry. I-It wasn't my f-fault." He had to make sure Morgan was safe. "M-Morgan…get…get out."

The woman frowned. "What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know," Dr. Perez said. His fever is at one hundred, but his blood pressure is through the roof. We need to sedate him and find out what's wrong."

Morgan stood back, shaking in fear as she watched a nurse stick a needle in Greg's arm to administer a sedative. In seconds, his eyes slipped close and his body relaxed giving the nurses the opportunity to lift him up and place him back onto the gurney. After wrapping his shivering body up in blankets, they wheeled him out, Morgan following until she wasn't allowed to anymore.

"Is he gonna be okay?" She asked Dr. Perez.

"Not sure, it seems like he's having panic attacks of some sort or PTSD. Did anything happen within the past few days that would trigger it?"

Morgan shook her head. "I wouldn't know but, Nick, the other guy I was with, might. He's known him longer."

"Do you know where he got those scars?

Morgan shook head again.

"I'll have to look at his file, but my guess is he could also be having phantom pains from those in sync with the PTSD."

Morgan nodded and the doctor disappeared down the hall. Morgan hugged herself, taking a deep breath and finding her way back to Nick. It was gonna be a long night.

**One Hour Later**

Nick and Morgan sat by Greg's bedside and watched him sleep. Morgan sat up close, grasping the blonde's hand and stroking his knuckles with her thumb while Nick sat on the opposite side just staring into the distance. He had figured out where those scars had come from; the doctor let him see Greg's file and apparently after the lab explosion years ago, the burns he obtained left some pretty nasty marks. He felt like he was gonna be sick; not because of what the scars looked like, but because Greg had gotten those and failed to tell anyone about it. He had been living with them for twelve years and no wonder he started having PTSD after the incident at the school. Greg was reliving his nightmare plus the small concussion he got probably didn't make things better. He rubbed his forehead, feeling extremely guilty for not noticing. He glanced at his watch, wondering when the rest of the team was going to arrive. They were just finishing up the case so Greg wouldn't have to worry about it when he got out of here. He turned back to Morgan and realized that she was sleeping, resting her head next to Greg's arm. He smiled and leaned forward, rubbing Greg's arm.

"You're gonna be okay, buddy. Don't you worry about that."

Another hour passed, the team had come and gone and Morgan was going to grab some coffee. Nick was reading a magazine when a small noise came from the bed. Heart leaping, he placed the booklet down and saw that Greg's eyelids were slowly peeling open.

"Greggo?" He placed his hand on the kid's shoulder and squeezed it gently. "Hey man can you hear me?"

"Hmm?" The blonde glanced over and raised an eyebrow. "Nick?"

"Hey kid."

Greg frowned and checked out his surroundings. "Hospital?"

"Yeah. Do you remember anything?"

"N-Not really. Just feeling really hot…like I was in a fire."

"Well, you did have a really high fever that caused you to hallucinate plus a concussion. And you were getting phantom pains from…from your scars."

Greg paled. "What are you talking about?"

"Come on, bud, I've seen them."

Red tinged Greg's cheeks as he looked down.

"Greg, why didn't you tell me about them? Were you embarrassed? Because it's nothing to be ashamed about. God, I can't believe you kept them a secret for twelve years." He placed a hand over Greg's. "Greg, look at me buddy."

"I didn't want Catherine to know. When I found out that I was going to have those for life, I felt sick, but Catherine was already guilty enough that I didn't want to put that on her too."

"Jesus man. I'm sorry; you could've told me, I wouldn't have judged you at all. No one would've."

Tears formed in Greg eyes and he wiped them away stubbornly. "I know, I know…I just…I was so self-conscious about it that I was afraid people would laugh at me…I don't really know why I thought that though."

"Me neither, G. We're your friends…your family. You can trust us with anything, okay?

The blonde smiled weakly before taking a deep breath. "Okay…thanks Nick."

"No problem buddy."

"Room for one more?"

They looked up to see Morgan standing in the doorway with a smile. Greg smiled back and Nick took this as his cue to leave. "I'm gonna go see what the team is up to." Standing up, he brushed past Morgan with a grin. She blushed, tucking her hair behind her ear. Once the Texan was gone, Morgan stepped into the room.

"Hey," Greg said.

"Hey. How are you feeling? Better?"

"A little. Kind of sore…so do you know about the scars too?"

Morgan nodded. "But I don't care about them. I care about you. You scared the crap out of us, me mostly. We found you on the floor barely breathing and then in the car you had a seizure. I thought you were going to die. Why didn't you say anything?"

"I'm sorry…I shouldn't have kept it to myself."

"You're right. You shouldn't have." She placed a hand over his and squeezed his fingers. "I really thought I was gonna lose you Greg." Morgan bowed her head. "You have any idea how horrible I would feel? I…"

"I know…I remember what you said."

Morgan's eyes went wide. "You…you remember that?"

"Of course. It's something I've wanted to hear from you since the day I met you…something I wanted to say to you too."

Morgan blushed. "Good."

Greg moved over and patted the bed, gesturing Morgan to lay down with him. She kicked off her shoes and did so, resting her head on Greg's chest and listening to his now calm heartbeat. It made her feel calm too. Greg wrapped his arm around Morgan's waist and inhaled the scent of her hair. The first couple of days had been a nightmare…complete hell…but in the end, maybe it had been worth it. No one cared about his disgusting scars and he cleared the air about it with his two best friend He glanced down and smiled seeing that she had fallen asleep fairly fast. He closed his eyes, tightening his grip around her; yeah it had been worth it.

**FIN!**

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	16. Sacrifice

**Sacrifice**

_**Prompt for: SandieBrody: **__**the labs being held hostage and Greg tries to save a friend and gets hit! Do as you please with and make it imaginative as you wish! **_**Set in S5**

**Enjoy!**

**Sorry for the long wait!**

**Recent 'Guest' who reviewed: I apologize for the long wait, but as I said before, I got to college **_**full-time**_** and I work **_**full-time**_**, so unfortunately I have other obligations before I can write. I try to find as much free time to do so, but there's also homework that I need to get done so I don't flunk out. I'm glad that you like my stories this much that you feel the need to remind me to write, but I'm doing the best I can to keep up. **

To say that he was depressed was an understatement. He was a complete failure and he probably wasn't the only one in the lab that thought so. God, the disappointment on Grissom's face when he told him why he failed his proficiency. It was humiliating. And to make things worse, Chandra quit and in order for him to retake his test, he needed to find a replacement again…and it was hard enough finding someone the first time. He probably wouldn't be able to pass the second time anyways. Greg sighed and watched as Nick and Warrick passed his lab towards the exit, chatting, probably about their new case. His stomach twisted; he also couldn't tell if the two CSI's had made a bet for whether or not he could pass or how long Chandra would last…it was probably the latter, but he couldn't stop thinking that they didn't really believe he could do it. He rested his cheek on his fist and stared lethargically at the computer screen. He should be the one going to the crime scene with Nick or Warrick, not stuck here. But he guessed it was his own fault; he was such a fucking screw-up. He didn't even want to be here anymore; he just wanted to go home and hide from everyone. Lately, since failing the proficiency, he'd been having really dark thoughts…like _really_ dark. Last night he contemplated whether his life was even worth living anymore and almost took a bunch of pills…but then Grissom called him in to help process a pile of DNA and since then, he told himself to push through. Ten minutes passed before he ran a hand over his face and was about to get up to go to the bathroom when Catherine strolled in.

"Hey Greg, got my results yet?"

The blonde sat up and wiped his eyes. "Um, n-no. Sorry, I guess I've been a little slow today."

The woman pursed her lips sadly and placed a hand on Greg's shoulder. "You alright?"

Greg just swallowed, looking at the computer screen blankly.

"I know the whole proficiency thing is getting you down, but you have to be positive, okay? I have faith that you can do this again."

Greg looked at her. "Even if I can, I still have to find someone to replace me. It was hard enough finding Chandra."

Catherine smiled. "Don't worry. You'll find someone; now get going on that DNA."

Just as she was about to leave, the front doors burst open and six men paraded into the building, holding machine guns in the air. A few shots went off and everyone screamed, getting to the ground for shelter. Catherine and Greg ducked down behind the desk and breathed quietly as the gunmen walked through the halls.

"I want to know who's in charge of the Novak case!" A gruff voice rang out.

Catherine swore inwardly. _She _was in charge… well technically Grissom was, but he and Sara had left to go revisit the crime scene. She glanced at Greg who was visibly shaking in fear and she felt horrible that he had to be put through this already.

"Excuse me! I asked a question!"

"Stay down," she whispered to Greg. The kid was like a son to her and she would never forgive herself if he got hurt on her watch. She slowly stood up, her hands up in the air and came face to face with a masked man standing in the doorway with the gun pointed at her.

"What do you want?" Catherine growled.

"Evidence, lady and if you want to live, you better give it to me."

"What evidence?"

"Don't play dumb. All of it that convicts Matthew Novak, my brother. He's not guilty."

"He's _is_ guilty. He murdered a family of five and then set the house on fire."

"They had it coming. Now if you keep talking, I'm gonna shut you up…for good."

"You're not getting anything from us."

The man growled and just at that moment, Greg peeked up from behind the counter to see what was going on. He saw the gun, it pointed right at Catherine…and the man pulling the trigger. He didn't really think, he just acted and the second the gun went off, the blonde shot up from the ground and pushed Catherine out of the line of fire just in time. Immediately, he felt two sharp, stinging pains in his chest and he knew he had just been shot.

"Greg, no!" He heard Catherine shout from somewhere.

In slow motion, or at least it felt like it was, he fell to the ground, the world around him spinning as pain and warmth spread through his body. He expected to hit the cold floor, but instead he landed in something soft…Catherine's arms.

"Greg? Greg, can you hear me? Oh god." She couldn't believe Greg did that…sacrificed himself for her. She pulled back his lab coat to see two separate holes in his shirt; one in his side and the other…in his chest. Her hands shook; he was already bleeding so much. "Greg," she cried, cupping his face that suddenly felt clammy.

"C-Catherine," Greg choked. It hurt to breathe…it felt like a snake was wrapped around his lungs. Everything fucking hurt. His side seared in agony and he looked down to see bright red staining his shirt. _Shit._

"Why did you do that?" She said, gathering him in her lap and trying to put pressure on the wounds.

"C-Couldn't l-let you…get h-hurt."

"So you getting hurt is better?!"

_Yes._ Maybe this was the best way to go…he didn't kill himself so it's not like he was being selfish and hurting others. He was merely saving a friend and getting shot in the process…collateral damage that's all. "I'm s-sorry." Even though he really wasn't. He was a failure and let everyone down. He deserved to die. He coughed harshly, blood splattering onto his lips and Catherine tightened her grip on him.

"It's gonna be okay, sweetie. You're gonna okay, I promise. I'm gonna get you out of here."

"Not until you give me what I want," the man with the gun hissed. They had almost forgotten he was there. "If you don't want him to die, I suggest you do what you're told."

Catherine and Greg shared a worried look. The blonde could feel himself dying slowly and he knew it was only a matter of time before he let himself give up. But maybe that would be okay.

~+CSI+~

Outside, Nick and Warrick pulled into the crowded parking lot, seeing a bunch of police cars and SWAT vehicles parked by the front door. They jumped out of the Denali and rushed towards the barriers where other lab workers and Grissom and Sara were staring at the scene.

"Gris!" Warrick said, scanning the area…something wasn't right. "What the hell is going on?"

"The lab was taken hostage," he replied. "Sara and I just got here a few minutes ago and people were running out, assuming they escaped before all hell broke loose."

"Where's Catherine and Greg?" Nick spoke up, his stomach twisting into a knot. They were nowhere to be found and he was praying they were standing in an area where he just couldn't see.

"I think they're still inside," Julie, another lab tech, piped up. "Along with Ecklie and a bunch of others."

Everyone's heart stopped. That wasn't good. Nick desperately wanted to go run in there and get them out…get everyone out, but that wasn't gonna happen. All they could do was wait.

**Inside the Lab**

Greg was deteriorating fast despite how hard Catherine was trying to stop him from bleeding out or falling asleep. She couldn't lose him, she _wouldn't_ lose him; not after he pushed her out of the way like that.

"Come on, Greg, keep your eyes open," she sniffed, cupping his face with her blood covered hands. _So much blood._

"S-Sorry. H-Hurts…t-tired."

"I know…I know. I'm gonna get you out of here, I promise. Just hold on, okay?"

Greg swallowed thickly and let out a shaky breath, clutching Catherine's arm weakly. Truth was, he didn't want to get out of here…he _wanted_ to die. And he had an idea. He blinked up at the masked man who was talking to his one of his partners and decided to take a risk.

"H-Hey," he shouted even though it was painful. It got their attention, so that's what mattered.

"Greg, what are you-"

"Trust m-me…I know…what I'm doing."

"You guys finally decided to cooperate?"

"Let her go," he coughed.

"What? Greg-"

"Shut up, lady," the man growled. He pointed the gun down at Greg. "Who are you to order us around?"

"If y-you let her g-go…leave m-me here…they'll do what you want…and faster s-so they can g-get me out. They don't k-know if there's a-anyone hurt s-so they're not r-rushing."

The man hesitated and thought on it for a moment. He turned to his partner and quietly talked it out.

"Greg, what are you thinking," Catherine whispered. "You'll die."

"I'll be okay, Cath, I promise."

The woman tried not to cry and think of the worse; Greg was dying, why did he want to be in here alone and risk dying faster?

"Alright, she can go," the man snapped.

"No…Greg, I'm not leaving you!"

"Get up before I change my mind. You have five seconds!"

"Catherine…g-go."

"Greg-"

"Four…"

"Please Cath…I'll be fine."

"Three…"

Catherine pursed her lips before propping Greg up against the wall of the counter and stood up. She barely had time to look back before the gun was shoved into spine and lead towards the front doors. They pushed her outside quickly before shutting the door again and a SWAT officer pulled her towards the barricades.

"Catherine!" Warrick shouted as he and the rest of the team ran over to meet her. "Thank god you're okay…Jesus, are you bleeding?"

Tears slipped out of her eyes and she shook her head. "No…it's not mine."

Nick paled. "Whose is it then?"

"G-Greg's. He got shot twice…he pushed me out of the way…I told him to stay down, why didn't he stay down?"

"They let you out?" Sara questioned.

"Only because Greg told them to. He said things would move faster if they wanted him out and safe…I just hope Ecklie gives in. Greg was bleeding a lot…I don't know how much longer he has."

All of sudden, Nick began to bolt for the doors before Warrick grabbed his arm.

"Do you have a death wish!?" He yelled at the Texan.

"Think about Greg! He's the one who has the death wish; ever since he failed his proficiency, he hasn't been himself…he's been really depressed." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I think he got shot on purpose.'

"That can't be true," Sara said. "Greg isn't like that."

"I don't know," Nick sighed, wishing he could go in there and save the man he considered a little brother. He didn't like how sad Greg had been over the last week because he didn't end up becoming a CSI. "But I think maybe he pushed Catherine out of the way was because he wanted to die."

~+CSI+~ 

He was numb…it was beginning to feel like he was slowly leaving his body, because he couldn't really feel anything, let alone know what the hell was going on. He heard muffled sounds around him, maybe even someone saying his name, but his mind was too far gone to really comprehend it.

Ecklie, who was sitting outside his office with a gunshot wound in his leg, watching as Greg was slowly lose the battle against unconsciousness and as much as people thought he was a complete asshole, he wasn't going to let this kid die; Grissom's team would be completely devastated. It went against all his beliefs and against the book, but he was gonna have to give the men what they wanted so Greg could get to the hospital.

"Alright," he grunted to the man holding a gun to his head. "I'll give you the evidence, but you have to let us go."

"Yeah, we'll see."

Ecklie was dragged to his feet and lead over to the evidence locker to get what the men needed. And once they did, they brought the assistant director back into the hallway, dropping him next to a barely alive Greg.

"Now everyone just stay calm and don't move. It'll all be over very soon."

The men gathered into a group and headed for the back door, disappearing from the lab.

Greg blinked, hearing footsteps fading away and then Ecklie's, surprisingly, worried face hovering over him. The man was saying something to him, because his mouth was moving, but he couldn't make out what those words were. Was it over? Could he finally sleep? He blinked again, this time, barely able to reopen his eyes. He felt a hand touch his face and he just _knew_ it couldn't be the guy that hated his guts, right? Maybe this was all one big nightmare and if he went to sleep and woke up again, it would be over. Tomorrow he would wake up and he would be taking his first proficiency test. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. Greg let his eyes slip shut and his body went slack, finally passing out.

Ecklie froze when Greg went still…when his chest went still. Hovering his ear over the blonde's mouth, the man swore. Greg wasn't breathing. Sure, he made the kid's life hell sometimes, but that didn't mean he wanted him to die.

"Grissom's not gonna like this he muttered.

The men that took the lab hostage were apprehended when they tried to escape out the back and once SWAT gave everyone the all clear, Nick immediately rushed into the building, intent on making sure his best friend stayed alive. He rounded the corner to where Catherine said the kid had been and stopped abruptly at the sight before him.

"Oh god no."

Ecklie was pressing down on Greg's wounds, disregarding his own, but the way that the lab tech's body gave in to the pressure worried the Texan. "Greg!"

The assistant director's head shot up with a worried look on his face. "He's not breathing."

The Texan ran over, followed by the rest of the team as they caught up, and fell to his knees next to Greg's lifeless body. "Greg!" he shouted, slapping the man's pale face. "Greggo, come on buddy, don't do this."

"We need to give him CPR," Catherine ordered. "Nicky, start compressions, I'll breathe."

Calming himself down, Nick nodded and placed his hands on the middle of Greg's chest before pressing down repeatedly. "Come on, G, come on." Once he was finished, Catherine tilted the blonde's head back, pinched his nose and covered his mouth with hers, trying to ignore the blood trickling from the corner of it, and blowing air into his lungs. The two did this for three minutes and Nick was really becoming desperate, pressing harder into the younger man's chest, even though he hated the sound of bones cracking.

"Come on Greg! Breathe! Breathe!"

"Where are the paramedics!?" Sara barked, tears trailing down her face. Greg was her best friend, a brother and the fact that he was so depressed that he'd want to die made her sick.

Nick was crying now…and so was Catherine. They were failing at getting their friend back, their family member. They should've had the kid talk to them, then maybe he wouldn't have felt so alone or felt the need to get himself killed.

"Greg, please," Nick sniffed, clutching the man's cold hand while Catherine did more rescue breaths. "Please don't leave."

~+C+~ 

_Greg opened his eyes and felt warmth wash over his body. He was no longer cold, no longer sad…he was happy. He had no clue why he was in his childhood home though. Was he dead?_

_ "You're not dead, Hojem and I refuse to let you die."_

_ Greg recognized that voice. He turned around and saw his Papa Olaf standing behind him. It saddened him…remembering that his grandfather had died a couple weeks ago and that was another reason why he was so depressed. The man was his role model and now he was gone from his life forever. He hadn't told anyone about it, only that he had taken a couple days of personal time. No one asked where he had gone or what he had done…almost like they didn't even _noticed_ he was gone. He probably wouldn't have told them had they asked, but it would've been nice to know they cared._

_ "Papa," he smiled. It still hurt that he was gone. "What's going on? Is this heaven?"_

_ "No…but it's right over there behind that door. _Your_ door."_

_ Greg turned and saw that his Papa Olaf was pointing to his bedroom door. "Can I go in there?"_

_ Papa Olaf shook his head. "It's not your time."_

_ "It is, Papa. I can't be there anymore. It hurts too much. No one cares about me; I think they would be better off if I was gone."_

_ "They're not better off without you, Hojem. They need you."_

"_No they don't," Greg whispered. "__Jeg er en fiasko, Papa, en taper."_

_The older man smiled sadly and walked up to Greg, placing one hand on the blonde's shoulder and lifting his head up by his chin. "You are not a failure, Hojem. Look at what you've become, look at what you're doing with your life. You're going to become a CSI, I promise. You just can't give up so easily. That's not you; where's the stubborn Gregory Sanders I've known since he was a little pjokk? You have friends who love you…a family. You can't leave them behind like that. You remember how devastated you were when your Nana died…when I died? You don't want them to feel like that, do you?"_

"_No…I guess not. What do I do then?"_

_ "Go out the front door, Hojem. That's how you can get back to your family." Papa Olaf walked into the living room and plopped down in his favorite recliner. Greg smiled._

_ "What about you? Will I see you again?"_

_ "In time…I don't want to see you again until you are old like your Nana was. Jeg mener det. For now, I'll be watching over you from here."_

_ Greg sighed glancing at the door to his heaven. How he wished he could go, but he could never go against his Papa Olaf's wishes. "Alright. Thank you, Papa."_

_ "Your welcome. Just remember, Hojem: Du er sterk. Lkke glem det."_

_ Greg nodded and walked down the hallway towards the door. He knew that once he went back to the other side, he was going to be in so much pain. He hoped he wasn't making the wrong choice. He opened the door and walked outside…he walked and walked and walked. The pain was starting to come back, he could hear voices and warm hands touching his arms, hands and face. Taking a deep breath, Greg close his eyes and let the rest happen._

~+C+~

Greg wasn't breathing…his pulse was extremely weak…he was losing too much blood. It was only a matter of time before they lost him for good. The time was going onto almost four minutes and they had no idea what the hell was taking the paramedics so long.

Nick was exhausted, but he wasn't going to give up. Not until they pried Greg's dead body out of his hands would he give up. Just as he was about to start another round of compressions, the medics rushed around the corner the same time as Greg took in a hungry gulp of air, his eyes snapping open.

"Oh my god! Greg!" Nick laughed in relief, wiping the tears from his face.

As the blonde started coughing violently, the medics pushed everyone to the side so they could get to work stabilizing him and stopping the blood.

"He's gone into hypovolemic shock. Radio in so they have five pints of O-Negative on standby," one of the paramedics said while placing an oxygen mask over the blonde's face. Once they got him onto a gurney, they began wheeling him towards the door. Nick stayed close, hoping that Greg would see him and know that everything was going to be okay.

"You're gonna be okay, man," he said, resting his hand on top of Greg's cold one. "Everything is gonna be okay."

All of a sudden, Greg opened his eyes and weakly rolled his head to look at the Texan. Nick figured the kid wanted to say something, so he leaned in close. "What is it, bud?"

"S-Should've…let me…g-go."

Nick stopped in his tracks and watched in horror as Greg was loaded into the ambulance. The younger man's voice was muffled and wasn't very strong or loud, but Nick heard those words clearly. Greg _wanted_ to die.

**Five Hours Later**

"Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay," Nick whispered in a mantra as Greg's doctor walked up to them in the waiting room. It had been so long since they had last seen the kid and they had no idea if he was even still alive. He had to be…he just had to.

"Are you all here for Gregory Sanders?" The doctor asked.

"Yes," Catherine spoke. "How's he doing?"

The man inhaled and they all knew that it probably wasn't looking good.

"He crashed twice during surgery and we had a hard time getting him back the second time. Gregory is alive, but he's unable to breathe on his own so we've put him on the ventilator. We're doing all we can, but…"

"But what?" Nick replied in a shaky voice.

"But he's lost a dangerous amount of blood. Even with transfusing him five pints, his organs are still really vulnerable. Unfortunately, it doesn't appear as if he's fighting."

"What do you mean?" Sara questioned.

"Mr. Sanders is in a coma and his heart is extremely weak…I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't make it through the night."

The team gasped and Nick rubbed his face, trying to keep himself from freaking out. This couldn't be true…Greg couldn't be dying. "W-What…please tell me you're doing something?"

"Like I said," the doctor replied. "We're doing everything we can, but it's really up to him. If you would like to see him, I ask that you only go in one or two at a time. I'll go make sure that he's all settled into the room and then I'll have a nurse come and get you."

"Thanks," Catherine said and once the doctor left, Nick leaned against the wall and slid to the ground. This was a fucking nightmare.

After about six minutes, they were all lead into the elevator to the ICU and then down the hallway to Greg's room. The closer they got, the more nervous they were; they were scared at what they were going to see.

"Alright," the nurse said once they stopped in front of a large room. "Like Dr. Matthews said, only a couple at a time."

Nick and Catherine went in first and the sight they saw was painful…so heartbreaking that Catherine started crying softly and even though the Texan tried to be strong for both the older woman and for Greg, he couldn't help but shed a few tears as well.

"Oh Greg," Catherine whispered as she walked over to the younger blonde. _It should have been her._ She took his cold hand in hers and shook her head. "I'm so mad at you right now, Greg. You shouldn't have pushed me out of the way. Your life is so much more valuable than mine…you didn't need to sacrifice yourself for me. I know you were hurting, but this isn't the way to go. Please hang on for us, Greg. We need you. We need you more than you might think." Catherine looked up and saw Nick staring down at his best friend silently. He was really affected by this, she could tell. The fact that there was really nothing any of them could do except talk to the kid was killing them. Greg wasn't fighting…that much was clear; the beeping on the heart monitor was dangerously slow and she knew the only reason Greg was breathing was because of the tube down his throat, pumping air into his unresponsive lungs.

"Nicky? You alright?"

He didn't reply right away and she started to wonder how much in shock he was in.

"Ni-"

"Why didn't he come to me? Why didn't he say anything about being depressed? I…I could've helped him, Cath. This never should've happened."

"There was nothing you could've done, Nick. You weren't there when it happened." She told him to stay down…he had wanted to die and got up on purpose. She could've done something. But she didn't need to share that detail with Nick. He was distraught already. God, she was never gonna forgive herself for this. After brushing back the sweaty strands of blonde hair from Greg's forehead, Catherine left the room, leaving Nick alone. He needed it; Greg was his best friend…his little brother and watching him slowly die was something none of them wanted to believe was happening.

Once Catherine left, Nick exhaled heavily and sat down, resting his hand on top of Greg's. This couldn't be goodbye; he _refused_ to believe that this would be it for the kid.

"I'm so sorry, bud. I'm sorry that you felt so bad that you thought this was the only option. But I guess it was my fault too; I knew something was wrong and I didn't do anything. I'm a horrible friend, Greg, but that doesn't mean you should give up." He watched the man breathe in and out mechanically, bandages swathed from his hips up to his torso, and his skin clammy and tinted gray. He squeezed Greg's fingers and sniffed. "Please Greg. You're my best friend…I can't lose you. The whole _lab_ can't lose you; not just because you're amazing at what you do, because you are the light of the lab. You make everyone happy. I know failing your proficiency test knocked you down a peg, but that's just a small setback. I never told anyone this, but I failed the first time, too. It's nothing to be embarrassed about, G. I _know_ you'll be a great CSI; the whole team knows, especially Gris. You just need to get back out there. I promise…everything is gonna be okay. Just come back to us…please." He placed his other hand on top of Greg's forehead before getting up and leaving the room so he could let the others come in. He had to go punch something anyways; he was pissed for letting anything happen and worse for not doing anything to help the kid when he was down. He ignored the others who had tried to talk to him and he stormed down the hall and out of sight.

Sara and Warrick shared a look before going in for a few minutes and then leaving to go deal with the mess at the lab. And then there was Grissom; he took a deep breath before stepping inside the quiet room. He couldn't believe Greg- the crazy, happy, music blaring lab-tech would sacrifice his life not only to save Catherine, but to purposely get shot. How could he not have seen this? Going over to the end of the bed, he gripped the footrest, staring at the younger man. He really hoped Greg didn't give up.

"Greg…" _God, he was so bad at this stuff._ "Greg we need you back. I know you lost a lot of confidence after failing your first test, but that doesn't mean you'll never become a CSI. I gave you a second chance, I thought that would be enough for you to know that you didn't blow it. What you did was just a rookie mistake and I know you'd never make it again." He rounded the bed and placed his hand on the blonde's shoulder. "I'm proud of you, kid. Don't disappoint me by giving up." He stood there in silence until he felt it was best to leave. Nick was probably going to come back soon anyways.

~+CSI+~

The whole team was exhausted and miserable; the _lab_ was quiet and in a sad mood, as well. Nearly two weeks had passed since the entire hostage incident and Greg still remained in a coma. The only good thing was that his breathing tube was replaced with an oxygen mask. The doctors, being surprised already that he made it through the first night, continued to tell them it was up to Greg to wake up and each and every day, everyone visited him and talked to him in hopes that he would hear them and open his eyes. Catherine and Nick were the most upset out of everyone else, both out guilt and worry. They both would stay with Greg for long hours at a time: Catherine in the morning until she had her five p.m. shift and then Nick at night until Catherine finished her shift. It was draining, but they weren't gonna stop until Greg woke up.

"Hey," Nick said as he stepped into the room. Catherine was reading a file for a case and it was almost time, once again, for her shift to start.

Catherine looked up with a weary smile. "Hey Nicky."

"Anything?" He sighed in regards to Greg's condition.

She shook her head. "He's been the same."

The Texan nodded, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead. "Alright. I'll take it from here, Cath."

The woman smiled sadly before gathering her things and standing up. She kissed Greg on the forehead and then went over to Nick. "Don't give up hope, Nick. He'll wake up."

"Yeah…yeah I know." He forced a smile until the older CSI left before letting it fall. He walked over to his usual seat and put his stuff down. The kid looked horrible; his face was pale and he was getting skinnier with each passing day. His hair was flat and not styled like it used to be. The man in the bed didn't look like Greg at all. "Hey bud, it's me again, obviously…what's going on with you, huh? You need to wake up…please." He squeezed the kid's hand gently. "I miss you, Greg. The whole team misses you. We need our crazy lab-rat back…so you can become a CSI. I know you can do it, man." He waited…_hoped _for a response, but knew he probably wasn't going to get one. He sighed dejectedly and left to go get his usual extra-large coffee. And when he came back, he stopped short when he saw something that made his heart leap into his throat and almost drop his coffee.

"Greg!"

The kid's eyes were open and he was weakly sitting up, trying to take the oxygen mask off his face. Nick set the coffee down and rushed over in glee. "No, don't take that off, buddy. You need it to help you breathe better."

Greg looked at him with a frown on his face and Nick began to worry he might've lost some of his memory. "Greggo? You remember me?"

The younger man blinked a few times before nodding, removing the mask again and letting it hang around his neck. "N-Nick," he replied in an extremely hoarse voice. The Texan grinned and brought the blonde into a gentle hug, being unable to help himself. Greg was alive…Greg was awake! That's all he's ever wanted for two weeks. "Thank god, I've missed you so much."

Greg hugged back, but it seemed hesitant. He was so confused. One minute Grissom was telling him he failed the proficiency test and the next he's waking up in a hospital bed. Once he and Nick pulled apart, the Texan sighed and brushed back the kid's blonde hair. "How're you feeling?"

"D-Don't know, chest h-hurts kinda…what happened? What am I doing in a hospital?"

Nick pursed his lips and rubbed his hands on his thighs. He was about to say something when Greg started coughing violently. Nick sat forward and placed his hand on the kid's back and helped place the oxygen mask back on his face.

"Easy, Greggo, easy. Just take a deep breath."

After a few moments, Greg started to breathe normally and immediately became fatigued. Nick sighed sadly and helped the blonde sit back against the pillows.

"Just go back to sleep, buddy," he said quietly, even though he was sure Greg was already fast asleep and didn't hear him. _Poor guy._ He rubbed the man's arm before getting up to call Catherine with the good news.

**Two Days Later**

Greg was still in the state of recovering, but he was more alert and fell asleep less than before. He could breathe a little better but they still had him on a nasal cannula just in case. He was sitting up and smiling, albeit still weary but he was returning back to his old self…sort of. He wasn't as _happy_ as he used to be and Nick and Catherine…basically the whole team knew why. They were just afraid he might break so they didn't want to bring it up yet. Greg was still a bit lost as to what happened, but so far all anyone told him was the lab got held hostage and he got shot. No one told him that he sacrificed his life on purpose for Catherine, no one told him he said he actually wanted to die and no one told him he _did_ die. It wasn't something to talk about until he was a little more capable of handling it.

"Hey man," Nick grinned, walking into the new hospital room with a few jell-o cups in hand. He had just got out from his shift and was excited to see his best friend. The kid must've drifted off when he had gone out to search for the dessert, because Greg rolled his head at the voice and blinked open his eyes.

The blonde smiled. "Hey. How many did you manage to steal?"

Nick chuckled. "Four. Two for you and two for me."

Greg raised a brow. "Hey, I'm the one stuck in here, I think all four should be for me."

"You don't need that much sugar, G," Nick scoffed. "You're hyper enough as it is."

The younger man rolled his eyes. "Whatever." The two ate in silence, before Greg spoke up.

"What really happened, Nick?"

The Texan nearly choked. "What are you talking about?"

"Everyone is walking on eggshells around me and I know there something you all aren't saying." He was depressed, that much was true, but he had a feeling he did something pretty stupid to land himself in here.

"Greg-"

"Please tell me, Nick."

The man sighed and placed the half empty cup of gelatin on the nightstand. "Alright, Greg. You…well you know how the lab was held hostage? Well, apparently Catherine had told you to stay down when she was talking to the guys and you pushed her out of the way when she almost got shot. Normally, some people might be happy someone just saved their life, but you did it for all the wrong reasons. You pushed her out of the way because you _wanted_ to get shot. You died for almost four minutes and when we got you back you…you said we should've let you go. What was that all about, man? How come you didn't tell us how miserable you were?"

Greg looked at his hands. "Honestly, I was afraid you would laugh. I thought wouldn't didn't care. I was really bummed when I didn't pass and on top of that Chandra quit and I saw you had placed a bet seeing if I would've passed or not and my Papa Olaf died and-"

"Whoa, whoa, hang on. A bet? Damn Greg, that wasn't about you. Hell no; we were all rooting for you. We had made one to see how long Chandra would last; no one will be good as you, but that doesn't mean we don't want you as a CSI. You're gonna make an amazing one…I know it, kid."

When Greg didn't respond, Nick continued. "And why didn't you say anything about your grandfather?" And then it dawned on him…the few days that the kid hadn't shown up to work. He and Warrick had joked about him skipping work for a video game convention that happened to be in town the same day. _Idiot._ "Is that why you left for a few days a two weeks ago?"

Greg looked up in surprise. He couldn't believe he actually noticed. As if Nick read his mind, the Texan spoke.

"Of course I noticed. Everyone did, but no one wanted to ask about it when you came back, because you seemed different…sad and quiet and no one wanted to push you into saying anything. We just thought you'd mention it on your own."

Greg looked down again, not saying a word.

"Greg?" He needed answers.

"It's just…it's been really overwhelming and I couldn't deal with it anymore. Plus knowing that I was a complete failure; I couldn't even kill myself once and I still couldn't do it again."

Nick's heart stopped. To think he could've lost Greg earlier was sickening. "Jesus man. What the hell are you talking about?"

Greg sighed, his ears turning red. He was hoping this wasn't anything he would have to talk about…frankly, because he didn't think he'd be around for it. "A couple days before the mess at the lab, I was…I almost took a bunch of pills. But then Grissom called me and well…I didn't go through with it."

"Dammit Greg! This has got to stop!" He mentally slapped himself when Greg flinched. "Fuck, I'm sorry," he added, lowering his voice and grabbing the kid's hand firmly. "I'm sorry for the shit that's been happening, but I'm here for you…the whole team is. You're _definitely_ not alone in all this, we love you. You can talk to me, to Catherine, to Sara, to 'Rick, hell even Grissom! Suicide is not the way out. You know how upset everyone would be…how they _were_ when you had gotten shot and when we all thought you weren't gonna make it? It would destroy me if you did something like that. You're my little brother, Greg and nothing will change that."

All of a sudden, the younger man burst crying, the violent sobs shaking his form. Nick's heart broke and he immediately brought Greg into a tight bear hug. He couldn't believe he didn't see this happening. His best friend had been and is struggling, clearly needing help and he just stood there, not doing anything. He was a horrible friend.

"I'm so sorry, kiddo," he said in a soft voice, rubbing circles on the man's back. "You're gonna get through this, I promise."

Nick looked up when he heard the door open and saw Catherine, Sara, Warrick and Grissom come in. Without saying a word, the two girls and Warrick came over and joined the embrace. Greg needed to know he was wanted and that he was loved. Grissom stood at the end of the bed and smiled. They were a family and would never leave anyone standing in the dark again.

"We're all here for you kid," Warrick said.

Grissom placed his hand on the blonde's leg and squeezed it. "All of us."

**Norwegian translation:**

_**Jeg er en fiasko, Papa, en taper: **__**I am a failure, Papa, a loser**_

_**Pjokk: **__**toddler**_

_**Jeg mener det: I mean it**_

_**Du er sterk. Lkke glem det: **__**You are strong. Do not forget it**_

**FIN**

**Kind of a crappy ending, but I hoped you liked the rest! Once again, I'm so sorry for the uber long wait and I'll **_**try**_** to start posting more!**

**Also, the request period is over. No more prompts for this installment, but I'll be happy to take some for one shots!**

**Stay tuned!**

**Next Prompt for:****_Anonymous and Guest_**

**_Ashley_**

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_**Kalisberg**_

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_**Guest (7)**_

_**Zarah**_

_**ShortGiant**_

_**Fanatic Reader**_

_**Katie McGee**_

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_**Thewhatzupwriter26**_

_**Marymel**_


	17. Paradox

**Paradox**

**So this prompt is for two different people (or maybe they are the same person) but they asked for the same exact thing. Here it is! **

_**Prompt for: Guest and Anonymous: **__**Remember in the twin paradox episode? Where Greg was trying to save a girl but almost got shot? What happens if Finlay wasn't there in time?**_

Greg followed the several other officers of the task force into the abandoned, dark Mizue hotel with his gun by his side, in hopes to find something in ties with the Gig Harbor Killer. The missing Seattle detective, who was no longer missing, had given them a few tidbits of information that helped them find this hotel in the first place. They all split up and took different areas of the large building and Greg ended up by himself. Raising his gun a little higher, he opened a door and entered a large room with papers scattered, broken glass, a flipped chair, blocks of wood, and work benches…but that wasn't all. Blood. And strings. There were lots of them soaking in pink liquid. It was the Gig Harbor's workshop that he stumbled upon.

"Now I know how he makes them," he muttered to himself, scanning the area. "Now where is he?" He saw more stuff like crime scene tape and freshly made yellow evidence markers next to their molds. He heard sirens in the distance, indicating the back-up was on the way and just as he was about to leave, he heard a thumping sound coming from a nearby closet. His heart stopped, clenching his gun tightly and wishing he had someone with him. What if it was the killer? The guy was a pro, no doubt he could get the upper hand before he managed to get a shot off. He grabbed the doorknob and swung open the door, surprised at the sight of a women huddling in the corner. He gasped, lowering his gun and putting out his hand when she started freaking out.

"No!" The woman screamed, plastering herself further into the corner.

"It's okay," Greg breathed. "I'm with the police, I'm here to help you."

"The girls…the girls…"

Greg frowned as he helped her stand up and out of the closet. "What girls?"

"There's others. He has them!" She gripped his wrist tightly.

"Where?"

"The room…the room where he does things to them, to us…"

"Where?" Greg said, holding the woman's arm gently.

"I…I…"

"Where is the room?"

"Uh…there." She pointed out the door.

"Alright," he couldn't just leave her alone so he radioed back-up to the where she said they were. "Dispatch, this is Charlie-0-5-Sanders, I need immediate medical to my location."

"Are you really the police?" The woman sobbed.

"Yes. And don't worry, I'm not gonna leave you, okay?"

"Oh…I'm so cold," she shuddered, hugging herself and shifting feet repeatedly.

"Okay, just let me find something." He let go of her hand and turned around, trying to find something to keep her warm. "Uh…alright, uh, here just take this…" but when he turned back around, he barely saw the girl swing a crowbar at him before it struck him on the side of the head and knocked him out.

When he came to, the pain exploded in his head and his vision was doubling and blurry. Blinking a few times, he rolled over onto his side and pushed down the wave of nausea that overcame him. "God." The woman he had been trying to help was a little ways away, scrummaging through his vest that she had removed from him. He slowly reached for his holster to find his gun, but found that was missing as well. _Shit._

The woman gasped, noticing that Greg was awake and she grabbed the gun that was by her, standing up and pointing it at him.

"Don't! No, please. You don't understand, I'm here to save you."

"No you're not," she panted.

Greg put his hand up in surrender. "Yes I am. I'm a CSI. Please just put the gun down so I can get you out of here. I know you're scared." His radio suddenly crackled to life, startling the both of them.

_"Charlie-0-5-Sanders, respond."_

The woman breathed heavily, making Greg nervous how she was handling his gun. "It's just my police radio." He squeezed his eyes shut again, his head killing him. "When it fell on it's side, it sent out an alert."

"You're lying! You're trying to trick me!"

"No, I'm not I promise. I'm here to help you."

_"Charlie-O-5-Sanders, respond."  
_"You have to let me answer that," he said, trying to back away. "Because if you don't and they come in here and see you pointing a gun-"

"They're gonna kill me!"

"I won't let that happen. But you need to let me answer that now."

_"Charlie-0-5-Sanders, talk to me! Charlie-0-5-Sanders! Are you there?"_

Cautiously, he started to stand up, hoping the girl wouldn't do anything stupid.

"No! No! Stop!" She pulled the trigger twice and Greg was sent back to the ground with a yelp of pain as a bullet tore through his shoulder and another one hitting his neck. Blood gushed from both wounds and he immediately began to feel the effects. He could barely keep his eyes open or breathe properly for that matter. He moaned, seeing the girl standing closer to him, the gun pointed down. She was gonna kill him. He couldn't believe he was going to die this way. A tear ran down his cheek as he closed his eyes and let death claim him. A gunshot went off and he waited for the darkness to come and the pain to go away, but it didn't. Slowly prying his eyes open, he saw the girl collapsing next to him, unmoving, followed by running footsteps and deep voice by his ear. He felt something press on his neck and that sent the pain skyrocketing. He whimpered and slightly turned to see what was going on.

"Don't worry, Greg. You're gonna be okay. Just stay with me. Keep your eyes on me."

He looked up sluggishly, the room spinning in slow motion. _Ackers?_

"We need medics!"

Greg choked, tasting the metallic tang of blood on his tongue and he knew it wasn't good. He already felt sweaty and cold; shuddering, he let his eyes roll to back of his head, hoping it wouldn't be the last time he closed them.

"Greg! Greg, stay with me!" Officer Andy Ackers shouted. After Greg hadn't answered Mitchell's calls on the radio, they were about to go look for him when they heard two gunshots. When they found him, a girl was standing over him with a gun and was just about to pull the trigger before they shot her dead. And Greg…shit, he had been on the floor with a gunshot wound in his shoulder and his neck, crimson liquid pooling dangerously around him. He tried to staunch the bleeding as he called for help and then tried to keep him conscious. But just as the medics arrived, Greg went slack, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Russell's team wasn't going to like this.

Once he told Mitchell to call Russell, Andy boarded the ambulance after Greg was lifted inside, blood drying on his trembling hands. The kid looked horrible; his blonde hair was plastered to his forehead, his face was gray and sweaty while his lips were a whitish blue. A bandage was wrapped around his neck, holding a thick piece of gauze to the wound, though a lot of blood was still seeping through. His shirt had been cut open to reveal the other wound in his shoulder, thankfully that one not bleeding as much. His breathing was forced and erratic and Andy could tell he was in a shit ton of pain. He suddenly heard a groan from the gurney and he looked down to see the younger man's eyes opening sluggishly.

"Greg?"

The man groaned, his head shifting on the pillow; his eyes kept trying to roll to the back of his head, but it seemed like he was trying his hardest not to fall victim to unconsciousness again.

"Wh-who's screaming in my ear?" He slurred. He stared at the light above him. Why the hell was is so bright and why was there a high pitched screaming in his ear. Whoever was doing it needed to stop. Now. "Can you h-hear it?"

Andy frowned. Greg was becoming delusional. "What? Greg." He leaned forward, trying to get the man to look at him. Then maybe he would know what's going on around him.

"Pressure is dropping, pulse is thready," the medic stated. "Start large-bore I.V."

Greg closed his eyes again and Andy grew worried. He wasn't gonna let this kid die; he's known him for so long and the team wouldn't be able to handle another death in the family. Especially Nick; Greg was like a little brother to the Texan. Everyone knew that. "Greg! Nick's gonna kill me if I let you quit now. Stay with me."

Greg opened his eyes again, but only to slits. His head lolled to the side and the monitors began beeping wildly. Andy shifted in his chair, placing hand over the kid's cold hand. "I'm right here. Greg." His eyes closed again. "Greg! Just hang on a little longer. Stay with me!"

~+CSI+~

Russell hung up the phone, his heart nearly stopping. The news he just received was terrifying and wasn't sure how he was gonna break it to the team. Rubbing his forehead, he looked up when Nick and Fin came in with new information on their evidence. They were about to say something when Nick saw the petrified look on D.B's pale face. Fin seemed to notice too.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"That was Officer Mitchell…apparently at the crime scene they found one of the girls that the killer kept hostage and she freaked out."

"Freaked out how?" Nick questioned slowly.

"She attacked Greg…she shot him."

"Oh god," Nick said, collapsing in a nearby chair. "H-How bad?"

Russell sighed. "It's bad. He was shot in the shoulder and another bullet grazed his neck."

"We have to go to the hospital," Nick stammered.

Russell nodded, understanding the brotherly relationship Greg and Nick had. "Go, we can finish up here and then head over. But have Sara drive, you're in no condition to if you're preoccupied."

Nick swallowed and stood up leaving the room, hoping that when he reached the hospital, he wouldn't be getting the worst news of his life…that Greg would be alive. The entire ride there, Sara kept glancing at him while he stared anxiously out the window and biting the inside of his cheek.

"He's gonna be okay."

Nick bowed his head. "It should've been me. I was supposed to go with him for backup, but I wanted to stay at the lab…can't even remember why. But it should've been me. If he doesn't make it-"

"He'll make it," Sara interjected. "He has to. You have to believe that."

Nick let out a shaky breath and nodded. "I know. I know."

Once they reached the hospital, they rushed to the waiting area in the emergency room to find Ackers sitting in the corner next to a bag that said 'patient's belongings'.

"Ackers, have you heard anything?" Nick questioned. The amount of blood on the officer's hands was concerning.

"No," the man sighed. "He's still in surgery."

Nick ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "Why the hell didn't he have backup?"

Andy shook his head. "I-I don't. I think he just went off on his own. We didn't even notice he was missing until his radio sent out an alert."

"Fuck," Nick growled. He wasn't sure whether to be mad a Greg, the officers, or himself. Maybe they all deserved the blame. He sat down and bowed his head. All they could do was wait…though the suspense was killing him.

Two hours later, a doctor finally joined them in the waiting room and Nick shot up from the chair, hoping for good news.

"How is he?" Sara asked.

"Incredibly lucky. He lost a lot of blood; two millimeters to the right and the bullet would have torn through the carotid artery. It hit some smaller vessels, but we've stopped the bleeding. With his shoulder, it was less complicated; a through and through flesh wound. We've stitched both up and the anesthesia won't wear off for a few hours give or take, but you can go see him. He's in room 357

They took off down the hall towards Greg's room. Andy let out a huge sigh of relief; the kid was gonna be okay. When they got into the room, they were saddened at the sight of Greg; his face, shining with a thin layer of sweat was still tinted gray, as were his lips, from the blood loss. A sling encased his left arm, plastering it against his chest and a new draping of gauze was covering his whole neck, a little dot of blood blossoming from where the wound had been. His mouth was slightly open, his head cocked to his right and breathing softly. Nick smiled a little before going over and taking a seat next to the man. Sara turned to Andy with a smile.

"Thank you for being there for him."

The officer place the bag of Greg's things on a chair next to the door. "No problem. I'm his friend and I wasn't gonna let him die. I know how much he means to all of you."

Sara pat him on the shoulder and turned to go sit on the other side of Greg. Andy watched for a moment, realizing how close they were to losing a part of their family. Taking a deep breath, he decided that he should probably go home and clean up. Without another word, he left the room.

**Four Hours Later**

Sara was getting coffee for her and Nick while the Texan kept staring at Greg, wondering when the hell he was going to wake up. He couldn't stop thinking about how close he had been to losing him. He should've been with the kid; sure Greg was a grown man now and didn't need babysitting, but they were still friends…he would always see the kid as his baby brother no matter what. He glanced at the juice and Jell-O, on the nightstand, that the nurse had brought for when he woke up.

"Come on, kiddo. Wake up before I eat your food."

"Y-You do it…you're g-gonna…lose a…h-hand."

Nick's forehead rose when he heard the raspy voice croak from the bed. Greg's eyelids flickered open revealing tired brown eyes. The Texan grinned. "Hey buddy."

Greg smiled feebly and yawned. "Hey." He scanned the room and grunted. "Hospital?"

"Yeah. How are you feeling?"

The blonde squeezed his eyes shut in thought and creased his forehead trying to remember _why_ he was in the hospital.

"Greggo? You okay?"

His eyes flew open. "T-That girl…where…where is s-she?"

"Easy man. Take it easy, its fine. She's, uh, she's dead."

Greg became somber and went quiet. "Greg, it's not your fault."

"I…I was trying to help her…maybe I could've said something different or maybe I could've done a better job of making her feel safe."

"Greg stop. There's nothing more you could've done. She was most likely drugged and delusional. God knows what else was done to her. When the police found Keri Torres, she was aggressive and imagining things too."

"Greg picked at the lint from the sheets. "I know. But I was there, Nick. I could've saved her." A small tear rolled down his cheek. "And now she's dead. How am I supposed to live with that?"

Nick pursed his lips sadly and leaned forward, placing a hand over Greg's. "You did the best you could, man, you have to believe that. You're a great person and a great CSI. It probably would've happened to any of us. As for how you live with what happened…I wish I could answer that for you…but I'm still trying to figure it out myself."

Greg nodded and wiped his nose before looking up at Nick with a half-hearted smile.

"Thanks."

"It's no problem, bud. I'm just really glad you're okay. When Russell told me what happened…" he shook his head. "It's just good to see you awake, that's all. But if you ever go off on your own like you did, I _will_ kick your ass."

Greg snorted. "Don't make me laugh…it hurts."

Nick smirked, patting Greg on his arm. "I'm not joking."

Greg rolled his eyes.

"Hey look who's up!"

They both glanced towards the door to see Russell, Sara, Fin, and Morgan file into the room. Greg grinned, glad to have the company even though he was tired. "Hey."

"How are you doin' kid?" D.B. smiled.

Greg shrugged with his uninjured shoulder. "Better."

"Good. Now I'm sure Nick already told you, but none of this was your fault. There was nothing more that you could've done."

"Yeah…I know. It might take time for me to get over it…but I know."

"You'll be okay," Fin said, rubbing his arm briefly. "I'm sorry none of us was there with you, though."

"It's fine. Ackers kept me fighting." He closed his eyes and sunk into the pillows. "And I knew you guys would be pissed if I gave up."

"Damn right," Nick responded. He could tell the kid was getting tired, the meds finally kicking in once more. "Alright, we'll clear out. Get some rest."

Greg nodded and shifted a little before letting sleep take him away. After saying their goodbyes to Nick, the team left the room one by one.

"Is he gonna be alright?" D.B. asked.

Nick cleared his throat. "Yeah. It's Greg; he can bounce back from anything."

"I don't doubt that. I'll see you later. You should get some rest, too, you look like crap."

Nick rolled his eyes, but as soon as Russell left the room, the Texan's eyes closed and he was out like a light. A couple hours later, he woke up and Greg was sleeping peacefully, still looking a little pale but relatively better than before. He pat the kid on the hand before getting up to stretch and find Morgan who was talking to Keri Torres. When he got there, it looked like the detective was upset and Morgan was trying to calm her down.

"What's going on?"

Morgan looked up worriedly. "Keri said she saw the guy who worked alongside with the Gig Harbor Killer. He's in the hospital somewhere."

Nick's eyes widened and quickly left the room to go check on Greg. He never should've left the kid by himself…especially if he had no way to defend himself. However, it could be a longshot that this guy would hurt Greg; the kid didn't really see anything besides the GH's workshop…but he wasn't gonna take any chances. He rounded the corner and froze at what he was seeing. Daniel Shaw; Finlay's old partner was in Greg's room, looming over his bed menacingly…with a syringe in his hand, injecting whatever it was into his I.V. and Greg oblivious to the impending danger.

"No!" He bolted over and smacked the syringe out of Shaw's hand before tackling to the ground and cuffing him. Morgan showed up behind him, gun at the ready.

"Check on Greg, I think he tried to put something in his I.V.," he breathed. "Quickly!"

Morgan stowed her gun and strode over to his bedside, carefully pulling out the wire from the crook of his elbow before pressing gentle fingers underneath Greg's jawbone. The pulse was strong and steady, but he was still sleeping…_hopefully_ sleeping.

"Greg?" She gripped his sling-free shoulder and shook him cautiously. "Greg!"

His eyes fluttered open and he looked around in confusion while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What's going on?" He saw Nick handcuffing Daniel Shaw, Fin's old partner, on the ground. "What the hell?"

"He's an accomplice to the Gig Harbor Killer," Morgan said, sitting next to him. "He tried to get to Keri and I guess he thought you were a threat too."

Greg swallowed nervously, rubbing the tender spot on is arm. "He tried to kill me?"

"We should probably let the doctor run your blood, just to make sure nothing got in. But you seem okay." Morgan smiled, stroking the older man's arm.

He exhaled heavily while watching Nick lift Shaw to his feet and pass him off to a security guard.

"You okay, bud?"

"Y-Yeah. Thanks."

Nick bobbed his head before heading towards the exit. "I'll get the doctor." When he left, Morgan sighed and turned to Greg again. "You sure you're alright?"

"Just a little shaken up, but otherwise, yeah. Kind of tired too."

"Okay…want me to stay while you try to go back to sleep?"

Greg's heart fluttered. "If you want to."

Morgan smiled. "Scoot."

Greg raised his eyebrows but didn't say a word and shifted over until Morgan could climb on the bed, getting comfortable and resting her head on his chest. Greg didn't really know what was happening, but he liked it. He smiled faintly before closing his eyes.

"I'm really glad you're okay, Greg. When I heard what happened…I was really scared you were gonna die. We all were."

"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon." Maybe once he got out of here, he would ask her out. Life was short as he just found out the hard way. He let his eyes close and soon he was fast asleep.

**Two Days Later**

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather stay a mine or Morgan's place for a couple days until you've fully recovered?" Nick said as he followed Greg up the stairs to the apartment, carrying the kid's go bag.

"I'm fine," Greg breathed, wishing that the elevator was working and he didn't have to walk up three flights of stairs. "Don't worry." He pulled his keys out of his pocket once they reached the top and unlocked the door. They stepped inside and Greg flipped on the lights while Nick put the blonde's stuff down on a chair. Nick scanned the apartment and smirked.

"You've changed this place up a lot since the last time I came here." The two hadn't really hung out much after Warrick's death and Grissom's leaving…and then they distanced after Langston left and then Catherine. He felt bad; they were supposed to be best friends.

Greg chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. He really had since he decided to mature up a little. All his posters of playboy girls were taken down, his dirty magazines were thrown out, all his CDs and videos were neatly put away and he bought a new couch and completely rearranged the place. "Yeah…I guess I just needed a change."

"Don't change too much, G. I still miss the days when you were a crazy lab-rat."

Greg rolled his eyes before shedding his jacket.

"You should get some sleep, man. You still look like crap."

"Gee thanks," Greg scoffed, rubbing his face. They both went quiet and after a moment, Greg realized the Texan was staring at his neck. "Are you alright?"

Nick took a deep breath. "Yesterday touched a nerve; it made me realize not to take things for granted. I'm sorry for not being a good friend these past years."

The corner of Greg's mouth twitched upwards. "It's fine."

Nick sighed. The kid was never one to hold a grudge or be mad at anyone for that matter. It was extremely rare when he was. "Well, then we should have a guy's night. My place when you're better. Beer, wings, and football."

Greg grinned widely. "I'd like that."

"Me too." With that, Nick walked over and brought the kid into a gentle embrace for a minute before pulling away. "Are you sure you're gonna be alright? I can hang around a little."

"Yes _mom_ I'll be fine. You can leave. I'm just gonna be sleeping most of the time anyways. It would be creepy if you watched me the entire time."

Nick snorted and pat Greg on the arm before heading towards the door. "I'll stop by tomorrow, alright?"

"Please do, I think I might go crazy not being able to work."

The Texan laughed. "Bye Greggo." He shut the door on his way out and Greg sighed. He kicked off his shoes and sat down on the couch, glancing around his apartment. Even his own personal style, like his hair. He got up and went to the bathroom and dug through his cabinet to find his old hair gel. He smirked. Maybe he wouldn't change everything.

**FIN**

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	18. Panic

**Panic**

_**Prompt for: Ashley: Greg starts having panic attacks after some sort of incident**_

**Enjoy!**

Greg stepped into the lab and let out a shaky breath. It had been a month since the beating in the alleyway and no matter what, he still felt nervous and was always looking over his shoulder. He was glad Grissom still had him on lab duty instead of going to crime scenes…but that was all going to end soon; today he would be back on the streets. Back with the danger, the death, the pain. Everyone on the team kept asking if he was okay or how he was doing and it was nice, but that just kept reminding him what happened actually happened. And he wanted to forget about it…however the still fading bruises all over his body stopped him from that. He went into the empty locker-room and shoved his things into his locker.

"Greg!"

He flinched violently and stumbled into the bench when he spun around. It was Catherine. The woman smiled sadly and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry, Hun. You okay?"

"Y-Yeah," he breathed, sitting down. "I'm good."

Catherine knew the kid was still sensitive because of what happened in the alley four weeks ago and she was surprised that he still wanted to work rather than take a vacation. She admired how selfless and strong he was, but one of these days it was really going to kill him.

"Are you sure you want to start up field work again? I can tell Grissom you need more time to recover."

The younger man shook his head. As much as he'd rather not go out in the field, he knew he had to eventually. And he didn't want to be considered pathetic or a wuss…he didn't want people to laugh because he was being weak. "No…I'll be fine."

Catherine smiled. "Okay." She handed him a slip of paper. "You and Nick have a triple homicide/robbery at a drugstore."

Greg washed a hand down his face and nodded, taking the paper. "Okay. Thanks." Last time he went to a drugstore he ended up almost being beaten to death.

"Greg, you don't have to do this is you don't want to. I can have Warrick switch-"

"No!" He shouted, standing abruptly. "I said I'll be fine." He stalked out of the room, leaving Catherine speechless. He knew he was gonna have to apologize to her eventually, he already felt guilty for shouting when she was merely trying to help.

"Dammit." Is was going to be a long day.

It was really late when Greg pulled up to the curb next to his apartment. He was exhausted from today's case and they still hadn't even solved it yet…they weren't even near to cracking it. To make things worse, Nick had been in a bad mood from the start…something about his date stealing his wallet and then the case itself. A mother and her four year old girl had been murdered at the drugstore, along with the cashier, and when it came to kids, the Texan got really serious. Hopping out of his car, he began to walk the short distance to his building when all of a sudden he was smashed over the side of the head from one direction and pushed into the alley from the other. _Two people_.

"Give me your money, blondie!" A gruff voice shouted in his face, shoving him up against the wall. "Or we'll kill you."

"P-Please." His shoulders dig into the bricks the harder his attacker held him up. He was already starting to tremble violently and he was hit with horrible flashbacks of the gang attacks. He was punched in the gut and another memory came at him at full force. His heart began pounding frantically, the blood rushing in his ears. He couldn't believe this was happening again…why did this always happen to him? He could feel Pig's hot breath on his face…no wait, that wasn't right. There was two people not twenty…but why was he staring at a pig mask?

"Oh God." He couldn't breathe…his chest was so tight and he couldn't inhale properly. A sense of impending doom overcame him and he knew that he might actually die this time. He could hear himself choking and wheezing; it was only a matter of time before he stopped breathing all together.

"What the hell's wrong with him? What did you do?" One of the attackers said.

"I don't know! He must have asthma or something. Come on, this ain't worth it."

Greg suddenly felt the grip on his release and he fell brutally to the ground, scratching his face on the pavement. He was breathing like a fish out of water and his vision was clouding; the world spun around him and before he knew what was happening, darkness engulfed him like a tidal wave.

It felt like hours before he woke up, but when he looked at his cracked watch to see that he'd only been out for ten minutes. His whole body ached, his chest burning the most and his mouth dry. He coughed violently, his brain feeling fuzzy and sweat making his t-shirt stick to his body even though he was freezing. Groaning, he weakly pushed himself up and looked around. He was still in the alley outside his apartment and he had about five hours before his shift so that left him enough time to trudge up the stairs to his apartment and sleep for a few hours. By the time he got to his door, he was out of breath and he could barely stand. Greg tripped into the room and collapsed on his couch, immediately passing out once more. He had no idea what happened earlier, but he didn't feel like dealing with that at the moment. God, he was so fucking tired.

~+CSI+~

_Brinngggg!_

"Ugh." What the hell was that noise? It made his head hurt worse than it already did.

_Brinnggg!_

Greg lifted his burning face from the cushions and blearily looking around the room. His body still felt sore, but thankfully better than last night, though he was starting to feel extremely nauseous. Luckily there was a trash can by the end of the couch and he fell to his knees on the floor, heaving out what little he had in his stomach. When he finished, he was left more drained than ever, he rested his forehead on the arm of the couch and tried to compose himself before glancing at his phone.

"Shit!" He had three missed calls from Grissom…and it was forty-five minutes past the time he was supposed to be into work. Scrambling to his feet and ignoring the wave of dizziness that hit him, Greg ran around and got dressed and cleaned up. He swung open the door and started running out when he bumped into…Nick.

"N-Nick? What are you doing here?"

"Coming to drag your ass into work," he said with no humor in his voice. "We have a case to finish and you're here sleeping the day away. How can you sleep knowing a little girl got her life cut short?"

Greg swallowed. He got that Nick was in a bad mood, but saying this? "S-Sorry, I-"

"I don't want to hear your pathetic excuses, Greg. Come on let's go." He spun around and started to walk back down the stairs. The Texan was so immersed in anger and the case that he didn't notice how pale and sick looking the blonde appeared. Greg let out a shaky sigh and quietly followed the Texan down to the Denali. The ride was awkwardly silent, but Greg was glad for that. If he talked he knew Nick might realize something was wrong…and he didn't want the piss the guy off even more.

When they got to the lab, the two went to the layout room and went to work in silence. It was like that for over thirty minutes when Nick spoke up.

"I'll be right back, I gotta talk to Catherine. Take over looking at the pictures, there might be something that we missed."

Greg nodded. "Okay." Even though he really didn't want to look at the pictures. The crime scene had been bad enough. Not only was the cashier shot in the head, but he was also beat up almost beyond recognition…almost like he had been. Greg swallowed tersely and skimmed over the pictures…each one seemed to get worse and he could suddenly feel himself breathing heavily. His legs were tingling and he was getting that sick, dizzy feeling again like he had gotten in the alley last night. His breathing hitched and he knew he had to get to the bathroom before he spewed all over the evidence. Staggering out of the room, he briskly made his way down the hall towards the bathroom. His vision was tunneling and people he walked by looked at him funny, asking if he was okay. He ignored them; he couldn't embarrass himself. By the time, Greg reached a bathroom stall, his knees gave out and he starting retching dryly…which wasn't a surprise, he had barely eaten so much as a granola bar since yesterday morning. He started hearing voices in his head, the same voices from the gang attack…the laughing, the shouting, and the taunts. _Freak, pathetic, weak. You're so weak._ And it was true…he wouldn't be surprised if people at the lab thought it too. Tears burned his eyes and his chest ached; was it supposed to hurt to breathe?

"Hey. You okay in there?"

He gasped inwardly at the familiar voice. It was Warrick. Shit. He started to compose himself, but that was easier said than done. He just couldn't get in a normal breath…and the more he thought about not being able to breathe, the harder it became.

"I'm coming in." The stall door, he stupidly forgot to lock, swung open and he suddenly felt hands on his shoulders. "Breathe, kid. Just take it easy. You're okay. In and out, listen to my breathing."

Greg choked, but tried to listen to Warrick's calming voice. He closed his eyes but it wasn't helping. He was gonna die.

"Come on buddy," Warrick whispered, pulling Greg to his chest. "_Listen_. Don't breathe fast, just copy mine." He exaggerated the breaths and soon enough, the blonde was drawing even, deep breaths. Warrick kept him there for a few moments until Greg seemed better. The younger man shakily pulled away and wiped the tears from his face.

"You alright, kid?"

Greg closed his eyes with a nod, resting his head against the wall. He was so exhausted now.

"Are you sure? You don't look okay."

"I'm s-sure." Greg opened his eyes. "How did…you know what to do?" He asked drowsily.

"You were having a panic attack."

Greg laughed nervously. "N-No…that can't-"

"I used to have them as a kid, Greg, I think I'd know what a panic attack is when I see one. That's what my mom did for me."

"Oh."

Warrick looked at the blonde sadly. "What caused it?"

"I don't…I don't know."

"Well, when did they start?"

Greg remained silent and Warrick had an idea. There was something else…a scrape on his cheek that looked fresh. What was going on with this kid? "I think you should go see a doctor…or a psychiatrist. Maybe you should also tell Grissom. Or I can-"

"No!"

Warrick was shocked.

"Please don't tell him. I will, but I need to finish this case."

"Greg-"

"Please. Please Warrick, don't say anything." He didn't want Nick to hate him even more. He had to prove he wasn't weak.

The man pursed his lips. He really shouldn't agree to something like this. Panic attacks were sometimes life threatening and if they were this bad for Greg now, who knows how much worse it could get. "Fine. But only if you take it easy and get help after."

"I will. I promise."

"Alright." He held out his hand and helped Greg get to his feet. The blonde exhaled and when he didn't feel like passing out again, he walked over to the sink to splash water on his face. When he was done, he turned to Warrick and gave him a lopsided smile. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Just promise me you're gonna get help soon."

Greg sighed. "I promise."

"Okay…good." He pat Greg on the back and they both left the bathroom, going their separate ways.

"Greg, where the hell have you been?" Nick snapped when the blonde returned to the layout room. He was so tired, he wished that he could just go home and sleep. These panic attacks really left him drained.

"J-Just to the bathroom. Sorry."

Nick rolled his eyes. "Well, I think we got a suspect."

"Who."

"Roger Morgan, he lives in an apartment complex a block away from the store. Let's go and you better have my back. If you're tired, you shouldn't even bother coming."

"No…no, I'm fine."

Nick scoffed in disbelief but didn't say anything else. The two got into the car; Greg called for backup and when they got there, two other officers met them at the door. They all bust into the apartment and found Morgan smoking by the window. Alarmed, he climbed out the window and started running down the fire escape. While one officer followed, Nick shoved Greg out of the way and went back down the way they came, hoping to cut Morgan off. Greg trailed behind and when he caught up, he found Nick plastering the suspect against the wall and shouting at him. The officer was trying to get him to calm down, but one glare from the Texan told him to back off. Greg shook his head and went up.

"Nick! Hey, back down!"

"Shut the hell up Greg! What the hell is wrong with you Roger, that girl was six!"

"I didn't kill anyone!" Roger gasped.

"Bullshit."

"Nick! Stop!" He could see the Texan was cutting off the man's oxygen. "Nick, let him go!"

It took a second, but Nick finally released Morgan and threw him to the officer to take him away. Nick brought his hands over his head and growled.

"What the hell was that, Nick?" Greg asked.

"Go the fuck away, Greg."

"No." He walked over and grabbed the Texan's arm, spinning him around. "Just because you have a gun, doesn't mean you can freak out on a suspect like that. And that's all he is: a _suspect._ He may not have been the one to do it and you nearly killed him! You could get in a lot of trouble."

Nick pushed Greg back when he got too close. "I can take care of myself, Greg. Unlike you."

Greg frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means you're weak. You should've just stayed in the lab, we don't need someone like you out here. You embarrassed me."

"You embarrassed yourself!" Greg spat back, even though the words Nick were saying really hurt. "I know that cases with kids get to you, but you need to calm down! You've been really short tempered lately; I'm sorry that hooker stole your stuff, but you need to stop taking it out on everybody, especially me!"

Nick suddenly step forward, slamming Greg against the wall brutally and then lifting him off from the ground. "This is taking it out on you, Greg! You really want me to show you taking it out on someone?!"

Greg whimpered and his chest twisted. He looked into Nick's angry eyes and Pig's face suddenly formed in place. The alley was suddenly dark and there were more people surrounding him. _Not again_. He couldn't breathe and his heart was pounding frantically against his chest…it hurting badly. And so was his arm, but he assumed that was just because of the tight grip Nick had on him.

"N-Nick…please…please s-stop." He was so scared…he couldn't believe Nick was doing this to him? His body trembled violently and his lungs got tighter. Greg's shoulders began to sting, a cold sweat poured down his back and his vision started graying around the edges.

"Shit." Nick released Greg after he realized what he was doing. He should've known…it had only been a month after the attacks, what the fuck was he thinking? He began to feel nauseous. He was a monster; Greg was only trying to help. "Greg."

Greg stumbled away and tried to calm himself down and listen to Warrick's voice in his head…but it didn't help. It was too late.

Nick frowned. Something was seriously wrong with Greg. He was gasping for air and clutching his chest. His face was extremely pale and his lips were blue…he couldn't get oxygen.

"Greg!"

"L-Leave…m-me…al-" But that was all he was able to get out before his lungs stopped working and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Nick's heart skipped a beat when Greg folded to the ground. He went to overdrive and rushed forward, catching the kid before he could hit the pavement.

"Greg!? Greggo, answer me, kid. God." What has he done? "Call a medic!" He shouted at the top of his lungs while cradling Greg in his arms. "Greg?" He let his ear hover over Greg's mouth and he gasped. Greg wasn't breathing. "Oh no." He pressed quickly unzipped Greg's jacket and pressed his ear to his chest. "No, no, no." His heart wasn't beating either. All he got was silence. "Greg!" He gently placed the blonde on the ground, shedding his own jacket and cushioning the kid's head before starting CPR. "Greggo, please don't do this to me. I'm sorry." Tears trickled down his face. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Greg's skin was clammy…cold. Dead. "Oh fuck…Greg please don't…don't do this. Greg!"

~+CSI+~

Nick sat in the waiting room, leg bouncing nervously as he waited for news on Greg. The ambulance ride had been the most nerve wrecking ride of his life. It took nearly an extra three minutes to get Greg back with them. He had technically been dead for eight minutes. They almost weren't able to restart his heart…they almost gave up.

**Flashback:**

_Greg was loaded onto the ambulance, still unresponsive. Nick had performed CPR for five minutes and his chest burned and his arms ached, but he sure as hell wasn't giving up until the ambulance got there._

_ "No pulse," one medic, Diego, said calmly. "Oxygen levels are dangerously low. Are the paddles ready?"_

_ "Ready," the other medic, Ralph, answered. "Charging."_

_ "Clear?"_

_ "Clear!"_

_ The paddles were pressed against Greg's chest and the kid's small body jerked from the electric shock…but the tone was still flat. He was still dead._

_ "G…come on man."_

_ "Charging to 260. Clear?"_

_ "Clear!"_

_ Thump. Greg's body jerked again._

_ "Still nothing."_

_ "How long has he been like this? How long did you have to give CPR?" Diego asked Nick._

_ "Uh…um…f-five minutes."_

_ "Shit. We're already going on three."_

_ "Please…don't stop. Just…just try again."_

_ The medic sighed. "Charging to 300. Clear?"_

_ "Clear."_

_ Greg's body jerked again and this time there was finally a blip in the monitor._

_"He's back," Diego breathed and Nick wilted in relief._

_ "Breathing is extremely shallow," Ralph said, shining a light down Greg's throat. "Larynx in inflamed, he may need to be intubated at the hospital. What's his name?"_

_ "Greg," Nick replied._

_ "Greg? Can you hear me?" He shone the same light in the blonde's eyes. "Pupils are reactive."_

_ Nick could see Greg's eyes rolling beneath his lids, trying to open but not really succeeding. His breaths were, indeed, coming out in shallow puffs, like he was inhaling through a mud-clogged straw. Sweat coated his face and clung to his clothes and his body was trembling really badly. He had done this to the kid. He caused Greg to stop breathing and most likely gave him a heart attack because he couldn't keep the anger away. He couldn't control himself._

_ "Greg?"_

_ The man wheezed in response so Nick grabbed the blonde's clammy hand and squeezed it tightly. "You're gonna be okay, buddy. I promise I'm gonna make this up to you."_

_ He suddenly felt Greg's fingers weakly curl around his hand and it told him Greg knew he wasn't alone. Nick smiled. "You're gonna be okay, bud. You're gonna be okay."_

**Present**

"Nick Stokes?"

The Texan wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans before standing up and heading over to Greg's doctor.

"Dr. Len, how's Greg?"

"He's sleeping and stable. We have him on a vent, though, until he can start to breathe easier on his own."

Nick sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Thank god. So what happened?"

"A panic attack which induced the heart attack. Do you know how long this has been happening? It's very rare for a panic attack to cause such a thing, though not unlikely."

Nick rubbed the back of his neck. He had been too preoccupied in his own pissy-ness that he didn't notice. But now that he thought back on it, when he was going to get Greg for work, he looked drained of energy and sick. Then today when the kid had gone to the bathroom, he appeared as if he had just thrown up. And he had been too much of an ass to say anything to the kid. How the hell long _has_ this been happening?

"I'm…I'm not sure. He has been a little jittery and sick looking lately. I just figured he was stressed and maybe a little tired."

"Okay, and is it possible that something might of happen recently that could've triggered these panic attacks?"

_The gang attacks._ And then their crime scene and how the cashier was nearly beaten to death…and then when _he_ hurt the man he considered a little brother by scaring and holding him against the wall. "He was beat up a month ago…and the case we're on now is sort of similar."

"Alright, well it seems pretty clear that these panic attacks are because he's suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder."

"Oh Greg," Nick whispered to himself. The kid kept this hidden for a month and now it had just gotten worse. Usually he would notice these types of things, but- once again- he was being an ass.

"And judging by the symptoms that were described he's now developed a Panic Disorder."

Nick wiped his mouth. "Is there…is there any way to make it stop or to control it?" Greg really didn't need to be going through this shit…not after everything else that had happened.

"There's no cure, but there are treatment drugs like anti-depressants merely to take away the stress symptoms and Benzodiazepines which are sedatives to help stop the attacks. These are very addictive, however and many patients have had some withdrawal issues. But with support from us and his family, I think he should be fine. And like I said, he's currently resting since these attacks usually leave the person fatigued, but he should wake up within a couple hours and that's when we'll remove the tube or possibly even before that if lungs get stronger. We can take you to him if you'd like."

"Yes…please."

"Okay, follow me."

They both got up and walked down the hall towards Greg's room. "We'll keep him here and monitored for the next twenty-four hours and if everything looks good, he can go home."

Nick walked into the room once they got there and swore. The doctor said the kid would be okay, but right now he looked…not okay. A tube was running from his mouth and connected to a machine to help him breathe. His face was pale and sunken, though the sweat was gone so that was a plus. The Texan sat down and immediately placed his hand inside Greg's palm.

"Greggo…I'm so sorry." He had a feeling, after his talk with the doctor, that this panic attack wasn't the first one that the kid had. "Why didn't you tell me…" then it dawned on him. He had been so engrossed in their case and so angry that Greg was probably _scared_ of him. Fuck, he was really disgusted with himself right now. "I'm sorry man. I promise I'm gonna fix this. I'm gonna help you." Taking deep breath, Nick stood up and went to go inform the team what happened…but it seemed that one of the officers already did that, because Catherine, Sara, and Warrick were already speeding down the hallway towards him.

"Nick!" Catherine breathed. "What the hell happened? One of the officers said Greg stopped breathing."

The Texan ran his hand through his hair. "Yeah…a heart attack."

They all looked at him like he had five heads. "A heart attack?" Sara scoffed. "That can't be right."

"It was because of a panic attack…a panic attack that I caused."

"Shit, I knew I should've made him go to the hospital," Warrick hissed and everyone turned to him.

"What are you talking about?" Nick asked.

"Earlier today, maybe twenty minutes before you left to get your suspect, I found him in the bathroom, throwing up and having a hard time breathing. He probably would've stopped breathing had I not found him and calmed him down. It took nearly ten minutes for him to start relaxing. I told him he needed to go to the hospital and at least tell Grissom, but he begged me not to say anything, because he wanted to finish the case. I said I would let it go if he did something about it after he was finished the case, but I knew there was something he wasn't telling me. There was a scrape on his cheek and it obviously wasn't something he got from the gang attack. It was recent…like the previous day. I think something happened the night before today that started all this."

Nick couldn't believe this. Warrick saw all this and he hadn't; he was a pathetic excuse for a friend…for a brother. And to think that he accused Greg of not caring about the case when clearly he would rather do it than deal with his own health problems. _Jesus Christ._

"What do you mean you caused it, Nick?" Warrick questioned.

"I…I've been short tempered…especially about this case. I attacked the suspect and Greg tried to make me back off. Things escalated, I yelled at him and then held him against the wall. I made him relieve that night. Stupid! I won't blame him if he never forgives me for this."

"Well, how's he doing?" Catherine sighed exasperatedly.

"Fine for now. The doctor said that he was gonna have to take medications to help stop the attacks. He's sleeping now and they have him on a ventilator until his lungs aren't so weak. I can't believe I didn't see this. Why didn't I see this?"

"Nicky, it's not your fault," Catherine said.

"Yes it is…I shouldn't have hurt him like that. I already knew he was sensitive to yelling and shit after the beating, but I was so focused on the case that I completely forgot."

"He's gonna be okay, Nick," Sara said. "And Greg doesn't hold grudges…you know that."

"Yeah, I know. I just hope this time isn't the time he snaps."

"Mr. Stokes?"

They turned around and saw the doctor standing by Greg's door along with a nurse.

"Yeah?"

"We've gonna try and take the tube out. It's called a weaning trial and if Greg can breathe better without it we can take it out for good. We'll let you know when you can come back into the room."

Nick nodded and watched as the two went into the room and shutting the door. Five minutes later, they came out and Dr. Len smiled.

"He's breathing on his own, you can go back in now."

Nick hesitated.

"Come on, it'll be okay," Catherine smiled.

**Three Hours Later**

Nick was dozing in the chair next to the bed and Catherine was reading a magazine when suddenly the machines started beeping rapidly. She sat up, forehead creased in worry and noticed Greg's face was covered in sweat, eyes wide open in fear, his chest was heaving, hyperventilating, and his heart rate off the charts.

"Greg?" She smooth back his hair. "Shit."

"What's going on?" Nick said, suddenly alert. Greg was gasping for air like a fish out of water and it was scaring the hell out of him. "What's happening?"

"I think he's having another panic attack. Nurse!"

"Oh god. Greg…you're okay, buddy. You're not in that alley anymore," Nick said soothingly, resting a hand on the man's arm. Greg glanced up at him and the wheezing started to get worse…like he was scared of the Texan.

A nurse finally came in and injected his I.V. with sedative. She whispered gently and rubbed his arm until Greg's eyes started fluttering close and his wheezing reduced to shaky, yet deep breaths. Soon enough he was back to breathing normally and out like a light. Nick and Catherine let out a deep sigh of relief.

"Is he gonna be alright?" The blonde asked.

"Once we administer his medications, all this will stop, I promise. I can actually go get his pills now for when he wakes up. We don't wouldn't want something like this to happen again, I'm sure."

When the nurse left, Nick sat back down and grabbed the blonde's hand. "Jesus kiddo. You almost gave me a heart attack."

Catherine smiled, brushing the sweaty blonde strands of hair back from Greg's forehead.

"That's what he does to us," she sighed. "I'm gonna get some coffee, you want some?"

Nick rubbed his eyes. "Sure. Black."

Catherine nodded and left the room quietly. Nick stared at Greg, his stomach churning. Was Greg scared of him? He didn't blame the kid…what he had done in the alley was over the top. He had crossed the line with Greg and now he might've just fucked up their friendship. He glanced over at the blonde's arm and noticed a small purple bruise…in the shape of a hand. His hand.

"Son of a bitch. Greggo…I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."

~+CSI+~

Greg moaned softly as he started to regain consciousness. There was a dull ache in his chest and the rest of his body just felt completely sore. His mouth was unusually dry and his stomach rolled, making him somewhat nauseous.

"Greggo?"

The voice near him was distorted, but only one person that he knew had a Texan accent. Nick. Where was he? What the hell happened? The second he opened his eyes, dizziness smack him in the face, forcing out another groan. When he tried to move his arms, it took nearly all of his energy to do so…like they were being weighed down by cinderblocks.

"Greg. Can you hear me buddy?"

He tried to open his eyes again and this time the spinning lessened and his vision was a little clearer. This made Nick come into view. "N-Nick? Wh-What…where am I?"

"You're at the hospital, man."

Greg blinked up at Nick and it suddenly all came rushing back at him. The panic attacks…and he had one at the crime scene. That was embarrassing; granted, Nick had been hurting him and scaring him. Why would he do that? He thought they were friends. Greg clenched his jaw and then looked away.

Nick sighed, knowing what this was about. "Greg, I'm sorry…I swear to god I never meant to get violent with you like that…I never meant to take my anger out on you or especially cause a panic attack. When I saw you were having a hard time breathing…when you had a heart attack-"

"I…I had a heart attack?" Greg replied incredulously. Damn, he was only in his mid-twenties and he was dealing with all this shit.

"Yeah man…it was because you were under so much stress and then your panic attack made it worse. It scared the hell out of me; I've never felt so helpless in my entire life than when I had to give you CPR. I really thought I wasn't gonna get you back, G, and to know that most of it was my fault killed me…it still does. I care about you _so much_ and I know that it hasn't seemed like it the past couple of weeks, but it's true. I can never stop thinking about what those people did to you and every time I do, I want to go to the jail and strangle them. You're my little brother and I hate seeing you get hurt, Greg; I can't believe that I was the one who hurt you this time…so I can completely understand if you want nothing to do with me anymore."

When Greg hesitated for too long, Nick took this as a sign to leave. "I can go get Warrick or one of the others to-"

"No, wait…don't," Greg interrupted.

Nick sat back down and waited.

"I know that you're sorry, I forgive you…and I understand how sensitive a child death is for you; it pisses me off also. And I can't sleep at night after knowing someone out there had the guts to do something like that. I don't think I've had a good night's sleep since…you know."

Nick pursed his lips. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't think anyone would care…honestly, I thought people would be annoyed by how many times I've gotten hurt and feel like they have to babysit me twenty-four seven, because of how weak I am."

"Greg, buddy, no one thinks you're weak. You are far from it; you're the strongest kid I know. The way you've held everything together after the beating, coming back to work so early and standing up to me when we caught the suspect. If that's not strong I don't know what is. And we're not annoyed or mad, we're just worried. You may have come back early, but you still haven't had time to really process what happened. We're always gonna worry about you and we're _always_ gonna be there for you. Don't feel that you have to hide things from us, it's not good to bottle your emotions up. I should be taking that advice too. We're a family, G, don't forget that." He placed a hand over Greg's and squeezed it gently.

Greg smiled weakly and nodded.

"And about what happened with you and me earlier…I never meant to hurt or scare you like that. I crossed a line and I hate myself for it; I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you, I promise."

"Okay," Greg smiled again. "Am I gonna be okay?"

Nick sighed. "The doc said you have PTSD because of the attacks and something triggered it…something happened Greg and don't lie to me. I know something happened within the last few days to starting causing your panic attacks."

Greg looked down at his hands. "I, uh, I was walking to my apartment from my car and…" he swallowed thickly, not really wanting to remember the incident. "Two guys grabbed me from out of nowhere and wanted me to give them my money…or they'd kill me. Th-They shoved me against the wall…"

Nick paled. Just like he had done. _Dammit Stokes._

"I was thrown back to that night and each punch to the stomach made it worse. I couldn't breathe, my ch-chest was tight…" the monitors starting beeping and Greg began hyperventilating.

"Greg? Greg! Take it easy man, just breathe deeply. In and out." Nick rubbed circles on Greg's back until he relaxed. "Easy kiddo. You're okay now, you're safe."

Greg exhaled and closed his eyes for a moment. He really hated this.

"So what happened to the guys? How'd you get away?" Nick asked when the blonde seemed to calm down.

Greg chuckled softly. "I think…I freaked them out and scared them off. They dropped me and I fell to the ground. I think I passed out for ten minutes and my whole body hurt. I was lucky I wasn't far from my apartment and I managed to get there before passing out again."

"Jesus." Greg had gotten hurt _again_ and was left to die in an alley _again._ And that's why Greg had been late. "I'm sorry I accused you for not caring. I should've noticed how shaken you looked when I came to your place."

"It's okay. I'm fine now…I guess. What am I supposed to do? I'm scared Nick, what if I have another one?"

"Your doctor said he's gonna give you some medications. Actually, there's a few in here that the nurse brought by when you were sleeping." The Texan reached for the small cup that held two different colored pills. He passed Greg a small cup of water and the blonde looked down at the meds in his palm.

"This is it? Just take these?"

"Yup, I told you, you were gonna be okay," Nick grinned.

Greg returned the gesture and tipped his head back, washing the pills down with the cold water. "Thank you, Nick."

The older man nodded and then pulled Greg into a tight hug. He had almost lost Greg due to his own stupidity and he was relieved that he was given a second chance. He didn't know what he would do without the kid. "I'm so glad you're okay, buddy."

They pulled away and Greg smiled. "Me too."

"But promise me, no matter how much of an ass I'm being, you tell me if you're feeling stressed or scared or sick. I'll put everything aside and help you. We're brothers and we're supposed to stick together."

"Okay. I promise."

"Good."

"Hey! Greg's awake!" A voice in the hallway shouted and the two looked up to see Warrick in the window before he walked into the room, followed by the rest of the team. Even Grissom, to his surprise.

"Hey," Greg smiled.

"Hey buddy," Warrick said, patting the younger man on the back. "How're you feeling?" The kid looked horrible: pale face, dark circles underneath his dull brown eyes; he looked exhausted, poor guy.

"A little tired, but I'll be okay."

"Of course you will, you're Greg 'freakin' Sanders."

Greg rolled his eyes but grinned. He really was gonna be okay. He had his family.

**The End**

**Next prompt is for: ****_Srta McLean_**

**_Guest (2)_**

**_Tadaa_**

**_Leggomygreggo_**

**_Hadley_**

**_Caprice_**

_**Kalisberg**_

_**Marymel**_

_**SandieBrody**_

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_**Mandy**_

**Meggysmeg**

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**_Guest (4)_**

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**_Meanxruki _**

**_Kitties_**

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_**Guest (7)**_

_**Zarah**_

_**ShortGiant**_

_**Fanatic Reader**_

_**Katie McGee**_

_**Maryam**_

_**Thewhatzupwriter26**_

_**Marymel**_


	19. Blood Brothers

**Blood Brothers**

**Prompt for Srta. McClean: What if Nick and Greg were really brothers, but Greg was kidnapped as a baby.**

Nick was always feeling depressed at this time of year. It was three days before Thanksgiving and it was the day that his little brother, Greg had been taken from their family. They were at the grocery store getting things for their dinner in a few days and his mom had to go get something from another aisle and told seven year old Nick to watch his brother, Greg who was only two at the time. Everything was fine until a toy got the attention of Nick and he turned his back for only two minutes. What made him turn around again was the shout from his mother, asking where Greg was. The store clerks looked everywhere, locked the doors, and shut everything down, but whoever took his brother was already gone…and it was his fucking fault. He hated himself; the second Greg had been born, he vowed to watch him like a hawk…but he failed. His father blamed himself, assuming it was the job that made someone who had a grudge take his child. It was a horrible year. They never found him and the thought of his little brother being dead tore him apart inside. No one was ever the same again. After twenty-five years it still felt like it all happened yesterday…and to make things worse, his best friend was named Greg and he treated the kid just like his little brother. If it wasn't for the sandy blonde hair, Greg looked almost identical to his actual sibling. But that was just because he _wanted_ it, it couldn't be true. His brother was dead, simple as that.

"Hey Nick," Greg said, joining him in the break room. He knew this time of year the Texan wasn't in a good mood, but no matter what, he would try to make him feel better.

"Hey."

Greg pursed his lips. Not only was this the anniversary of the day Nick's little brother got kidnapped, the kid's name was also Greg and that definitely hit hard for the older man.

"You wanna go get drunk to forget about today?"

Nick chuckled. "Nah…I think I'm just gonna go home."

Greg sighed. He hated that Nick was this sad and he wanted to make things right. No matter what the outcome would be. "Alright, this is stopping right now."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I'm gonna help you find your brother."

Nick's face fell, losing a shade of color. "W-What?" He repeated.

"I hate seeing you like this, Nick. You're my best friend and I want to help you make it right."

"Greg-"

"Come on…please let me help you."

Nick pursed his lips and looked down at his hands. His family had looked for years, his dad exhausting every possible resource to find his youngest son, so how would starting up again change anything? He glanced at his friend who was eager to help and decided that if it made the kid happy then he should just roll with it for now.

"Okay."

Greg grinned. "Thank you. You won't regret this I promise."

Nick gave the blonde a nervous smile. He hoped he wouldn't. It was bad enough he was reminded nearly every day of his missing brother because of Greg and now digging up all the horrible memories from the past was probably gonna make things worse.

"So…how do we start this?" He asked.

Greg shrugged. "Do you or your dad have the case files?"

"I do. I took them from my dad ages ago in hopes to conduct my own searching but…it just hurt too much."

Greg sighed sadly. "Never mind…if you don't want to do this-"

"No. No, you're right, G. This has to be laid to rest. The files are at my place, you wanna carpool or just meet me there?"

"I'll meet you there, I gotta grab some stuff from my apartment."

Nick smiled. "Alright, bud." He stood up and placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "Thanks for doing this."

"It's what friends are for."

The two walked out the door and headed for their separate cars. Little did Greg know that he was being watched. Watched by a man in a black hoodie, taking pictures from a nearby car in the lot. When Greg drove away, the man sighed and put down the camera before speed-dialing someone.

"Found out where he works…and guess what, Bill's second youngest works with him….yeah!" He laughed. "This is gonna be a lot more fun than we thought….no, I don't think the Tex knows the kid is his brother. Do you want me to take him now?…you sure?…alright, you're the boss." He hung up and sighed, watching as Nick drove out of the lot next. This was gonna be fun indeed.

~+CSI+~

Greg looked at the photo of Nick's missing brother sadly and then up at Nick who was immersed in a folder, brow furrowed. He returned his gaze to the picture and couldn't help feel something about the black haired baby. He just brushed it off as nothing and tossed the photo on the table.

"So," he spoke after taking a sip of beer. "How much did your dad get up to?"

"As far as he could go. He tried everything; private investigators, the best detectives in the nation, he even got so desperate he tried a psychic, but nothing came through. He wasted years and nearly all of his savings to find him. I watched my mom become a shell of herself, never truly happy and my dad was just devastated and had a hard time focusing on his job. The only thing that kept them together was us and themselves. Anyways, I think we should start looking at the security tapes. While I do that, you look over the witness statements and see if you can get anything out of that."

Greg nodded and they got to work. For hours and hours they looked over videos and tapes until their eyes burned with exhaustion. It was nearing two in the morning when Nick finished a report that a detective had made. Five years later, it looked like they spotted someone who looked a lot like his brother, but following up, the people suddenly disappeared and the lead was lost. Nick yawned and looked over to see how Greg was doing; he smirked and shook his head at what he saw. The kid was sprawled out on the couch, a folder resting on his stomach and his eyes closed. He was out for the night. Greg was the most selfless person he knew. He only wanted to help others…he only _cared_ about others, putting them first _always._ Nick stood from the chair and stretched before cleaning things up, carefully taking the folder off of Greg and then covering him with a blanket. He looked down at the man for a few moments with a sad smile; Greg was just like a little brother to him and he wished he had the chance to know his _real_ little brother. After scratching the back of his head, he ruffled Greg's hair before trudging to his room to get some sleep before their shift started. However, there was something that kept him awake longer than he wanted to be…there was a feeling in his chest every time he looked at Greg…like there was something familiar…there was something there, but he couldn't place it. He just chalked it up to desperately wanting to see his kid brother again and Greg was closest to it. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. It was going to be a long week.

~+C+~

A week had gone by and they were no closer to finding Nick's little brother than anyone else had been. Nick was getting frustrated and short-tempered and he wanted to give up and go back to regular cases, however, Greg seemed to think he was coming on to something and he just needed a little more time.

"Nick, I think I found lead," Greg said as he entered the locker room. They were both exhausted from pulling double duty and as much as Greg wanted to sleep, he wasn't giving up on Nick. The older man was sitting on the bench, resting his head in his hands.

"Greg-"

"No, I mean it this time. I'm getting closer to an answer. If we could just get the DNA from an object of your brother's then we could run it through AFIS or something. I can't believe we didn't think of it earlier, I-"

"Stop it!" Nick shot up from the bench in a rage, startling Greg silent. "Just drop it! I don't want to do this anymore! We're getting nowhere and it's time to come to the conclusion that my brother is dead."

"But Nick, I swear if we do this-"

"No!" He violently grabbed Greg's shoulders and pushed him into the lockers. Greg's yelped in pain when the handle dug into his back. Realization hit the Texan seconds after and he let go of Greg, stepping back in shock. The kid looked terrified. _Fuck._ "Greg I'm…"

The blonde sniffed and placed the folder on the bench and then turning to grab his things from his locker.

"W-What…where are you going?" Nick asked, inwardly punching himself in the face.

"I'm g-gonna go home. I'm tired and you're right, this was stupid. I'm stupid." Without another word, he left the room and Nick swore. Why did he always let his anger out on the people he cared about? He shook his head and picked up the folder, skimming through the files. Greg was right, he couldn't quit now…not after getting this far. His mom had kept a locket with a small strand of both his and his brother's hair. He didn't know why he hadn't done it before…maybe because he just didn't believe the kid was even alive. Nick brought the strand to DNA and ran it through the system. He also scanned the fingerprint from the boy's birth certificate and linked it to the DNA. He waited for twenty minutes, the computer searching for a match. Nick sighed, rubbing his face and thinking of calling it a day.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Catherine said, coming into the room. "Running DNA on a case?"

"Cold case…Greg and I, we started trying to find my brother, the one who had been kidnapped as a baby."

She smiled sadly. "Find anything?"

"No. It been nearly a week and we've tried everything and I guarantee I'm not gonna find anything with this."

"Then why are you?" She looked around. "And where's Greg?"

Nick bowed his head. "Going home…I yelled at him and pushed him into the lockers. I was stupid and took my anger out on him. He was only trying to help. Maybe I should just-"

The computer blipped and a picture came up on the screen. Nick frowned. "What the hell?"

Catherine looked and made the same face. "Run it again."

Nick clicked buttons and the same picture came up. His heart stopped…this couldn't be true…this really couldn't be true. Could it? He and Catherine glanced at each other before the Texan quickly printed this information out and ran to his car. He had to talk to Greg immediately.

When he got to the younger CSI's apartment, Nick rushed up the stairs two at a time, breathing heavily and wanting to divulge this news as fast as possible. Upon reaching Greg's door, he began pounding his fist on it frantically until it opened a crack. Greg's brown eyes stared at him warily.

"What are you doing here?" The younger man said quietly.

"I have to talk to you."

"_Have_ to?"

"Greg, I _need_ to. I'm sorry for what I did, but I found something. Please, can I come in?"

Greg hesitated and then sighed before opening the door wider and letting Nick inside. The man rushed in, breathing heavily and turning to face Greg. When the Texan didn't speak right away, Greg was starting to get nervous.

"Well? What is it?"

Nick looked down at the papers, his hands shaking. He couldn't believe this…it couldn't be real, but yet it was. He looked up and took a deep breath, giving the kid a shaky smile. Now that he looked…now that he _really_ looked, he could see it now. The resemblance to his family; Greg looked more like his mom than himself or his dad, but it was him. Greg was his little brother, his _real_ little brother standing right in front of him in the flesh. It felt like a dream.

"Nick?"

"Greg…y-you're my…you're my brother."

The tension left Greg's shoulders and the man looked at Nick like he had two heads.

"W-What?" He scoffed in disbelief, more so shock.

Nick stepped forward and handed Greg the papers. The blonde took them and quietly read them over, his eyes going wide. He looked up at Nick, having a hard time coming to terms with this new information. Before he could say anything, though, the door was suddenly kicked open and three men came barging in, grabbing Greg by the arms and dragging him out.

"Hey!" Nick shouted, trying to fight back, but the third man smacked him over the head with a crowbar, sending the Texan to the ground. Through blurry vision, Nick could see Greg kicking and shouting, trying to get out of the men's grasp.

"No! Let me go!" Greg's screams were getting farther away until they were almost distance. They were taking him…his little brother was being taken away from him again. He couldn't let this happen. He was _not_ gonna let this happen. Swaying to his feet, Nick tripped into the hallway, following the sound of Greg's panicked voice. His vision was fading in and out, but he couldn't give up…he couldn't let his brother disappear again. His fingers grasped for his gun as he made his way down the stairs.

"Greg!" He fell to his knees at the base of the stairs, his head pounding and world spinning, but he quickly recuperated and got to his feet. Nick ran outside just in time to see a white van pull up and Greg carelessly being thrown in, the three men following suit and then starting to drive away. He started shooting his gun at the van, but the bullets flew in different directions. The van sped away and then disappeared around the corner.

"No!" Tears burned his eyes. His best friend, his _real_ brother was gone again. This wasn't happening. "Greg! Dammit!" Nick began to feel extremely sick and the darkness was closing in on him, but he forced himself to stay conscious long enough to call Catherine and let her know where he was. Before he had time to hang up, he finally succumbed, passing out before his face met the ground.

~+CSI+~

"Nick."

The Texan furrowed his brow. Why did his head hurt so much?

"Nicky? Come on, Hun wake up."

Why was he sleeping? And why was Catherine waking him up? Swallowing thickly, Nick forced his eyes to open, his vision blurry and lights bright.

"That's it, Nick. You're okay."

"Hmmm? W-What's going on?" He blinked a few times to get his surroundings to focus. He realized he was lying on a gurney outside Greg's apartment and next to an ambulance. There were half a dozen cops cars and officers going in and out of the building. And then it hit him: he had come to the younger man's apartment to tell him…to tell him they were really brothers. Then three men came in and kidnapped the kid…again; and he failed to stop it from happening…again.

"Greg." He shot up from the gurney, trying to pass off the wave of dizziness. "I…I gotta find him, Catherine. I can't lose him."

Catherine tried to push him back down, but her attempt was futile. "Easy Nick, calm down. You got hit pretty hard."

"I don't care! Greg is my best friend and my brother that I lost years ago. I don't want to go through the pain again!"

"Shh, it'll be okay. Warrick and Sara are in the apartment now processing things. Do you remember anything?"

Nick squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember the events that led up to now. Fuzzy images flashed through his mind. He saw Greg being dragged out of the room, down the hall and thrown into a van. The harder he thought, he recalled seeing a partial license plate before the van disappeared out of sight…and then a brief image of the fourth man in the vehicle. He looked familiar, but he couldn't place a finger on it.

"Nick?"

"A license plate number. RWL8…I didn't see the rest. And I think…a man's face when they were throwing Greg into the van. He looked familiar. I swear I've seen him before."

"It's alright, Nick. We're gonna find him."

"We have to," Nick breathed shakily. "I just…I can't go through this again, Cath. And telling my mom and dad…that I had their youngest right in sight all along and lost him for a second time. I'll hate myself more than they will."

"They're not gonna hate you, because we're finding Greg. We're all a family, too, and this isn't something we stand for."

Nick nodded, wiping his nose before hopping off the gurney.

"Woah, what are you doing?" Catherine said, stopping him from going anything further.

"I'm going upstairs to get that file I gave to Greg and then heading back to the lab."

"If you think you're driving anywhere, you're crazy," she scoffed. "And up the stairs, you're swaying on your feet still."

"But-"

"I'll tell Warrick to bring it down and then _I'll_ drive you to the lab. Now sit."

Nick rolled his eyes, reluctantly doing as he was told. "Fine _mom_."

Catherine smirked and called Warrick and the man came down two minutes later.

"You alright, man?"

"No…and I won't be until we get Greg back." He grabbed the file from his friend and headed towards the Denali.

"You and me both." Warrick sighed and Catherine smiled sadly at him. "I'm gonna drive him back to the lab. Let me know if you find anything."

"You got it. Hey…I know Greg is his best friend and all, but he's really broken up about this…more than he usually would be. Is there something I should know?"

Catherine exhaled through her nose. "Nick lost his little brother when he was a kid…that little brother turned out to be Greg."

"Shit," Warrick breathed handing her a box of Greg's things. "Then I guess we need to get moving." They both separated and Catherine drove a quiet Nick back to the lab The entire way there, he kept looking at Greg's picture in the file…rereading the DNA match over and over and over again. The shock of this information was still there…it probably always would be. He worked with Greg for nearly five years and all this time he was working with his 'missing' brother.

"Where do we even start?" Nick said, starting to feel overwhelmed.

"Well, let's look into his background," Catherine replied. "Do you know what his mother's name was?"

"No, he never talked about her…he never talked about who his dad was either."

The blonde rubbed her forehead. "I'll get Grissom to pull his file and see what he put down."

"What about me?"

"Go through his locker, one of the boxes Warrick gave us and reread that file. We need to know everything about Greg."

Nick nodded and went to the locker room. He opened the locker and smirked; it was a mess…typical Greg. He didn't like that he had to go through his best friend's stuff…he felt like he was invading the kid's privacy. Unfortunately he had to; he picked through Greg's things, finding food wrappers, t-shirts, a lab coat, music CD's and a few pictures. He smiled at them; one was of himself, Nick and Warrick at the bar on Greg's 25th birthday. The blonde had gotten so drunk that night, he and 'Rick nearly had to carry him up to his apartment. The other one was of him and Greg at a football game; it had been a blast…just like two brothers. He prayed that he would be able to take Greg to another game. Other than that, he found nothing to help their case. He grumbled in frustration before leaving to go find Catherine.

"Anything?" He sighed when he entered the breakroom to see Catherine looking over a file.

"Barely. It doesn't say much about his personal life except allergies, where he lives currently, not even an emergency contact besides you and me. It does say what schools he went to though, so maybe we can call around and ask if the teachers remember him. Anything in the locker?"

Nick shook his head. "I'm gonna go look through that box."

While Catherine rounded Grissom up to help call the schools, Nick went into the layout room to go through the first box of things from Greg's apartment. Just before he could, his phone rang and he quickly answered, hoping that it was Greg…that maybe he got away somehow.

"Greg?"

_"Sorry man, it's Warrick."_

The Texan let out a dejected sigh. "Oh…sorry I…did you find anything?"

_"Yeah, think we hit the jackpot. It was all the way pushed back in the closet, but there was a box of things…pictures. Some of them are of a brunette woman on her own or with Greg, his age ranging from three to when he graduated college. I think it's his mom…well, the woman who kidnapped him anyways. There's also a bunch of her personal stuff; Sara and I are coming back right now, maybe we can run facial recognition on her and see who she is."_

"Alright…hurry." He hung up and rubbed his eyes. He knew he had to call his parents; they had a right to know…he just wished Greg was by his side to divulge the news. But they could help; his dad might be able to recognize whoever kidnapped the kid twice. Half an hour later, Warrick and Sara were going over the things from Greg's apartment and running facial recognition on all the pictures, while Nick was finishing up with the sketch artist. His parents were nervously waiting in the breakroom.

"Is it true?" Jillian breathed when he entered the break room. "Is Greg really _our_ Greg?"

Nick nodded. "Yeah…and I lost him again. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Pancho," Bill sighed. "It most likely had something to do with my job or your mother's."

"Yeah, but he was right here…next to me for five years and I didn't notice."

"Don't beat yourself up sweetheart. We're gonna find him; I know you won't stop until you do."

Nick smiled weakly before pushing the paper of the sketch towards his parents. "Recognize him at all?"

Bill squinted at the picture and shook his head, Jillian doing the same. "A lot of people come and go, Nick. It could be anyone that I sentenced or your mother got convicted."

Nick sighed. They were getting nowhere. Warrick suddenly popped in, looking harried.

"What is it?" Nick said.

"Found something. You're gonna wanna see this…all of you."

The Stokes all shared a confused glance before following Warrick back to the computer room where a picture of a brunette woman appeared on the screen.

"Who is that?" Bill questioned.

"The woman who kidnapped Greg twenty-five years ago. And the man in that sketch," he pressed a few buttons. "That was her husband. Ralph Sanders."

"What?" Nick scoffed. It was the man he saw pulling Greg into the van only mere hours ago. And now that he thought of it, he saw the same man walking suspiciously around the store, his brother got kidnapped from, in the security cameras.

Catherine burst into the room, startling all of them. "That the woman who kidnapped Greg?"

"Yeah, did you find anything with the schools?"

"A woman named Kate Sanders registered her son, Greg, with San Gabriel Public Schools when he was five. No one ever saw her though, she never attended open houses or parent teacher conferences. But Greg left an impression on all the teachers and they remembered him clearly. He seemed happy."

"That's because that bitch and her husband brainwashed him," Jillian said unexpectedly.

Nick raised his eyebrows in surprise._ Damn._ "Was Ralph around at all?"

Catherine shook her head. "None of Greg's school files have the 'father' box filled out."

"So where's the mom?"

Warrick glanced at the computer. "Dead. From lung cancer a year before Greg came here. There's only one address for Ralph and it's in New Jersey. Do you think he would take Greg all the way there?"

"Doubt it," Catherine replied. "He must be somewhere close by and if he knew where Greg lived, someone must've been watching him."

"Hey," Sara spoke after being quiet the entire time. "Look at this."

The group went over to see what she had up on her computer screen. "Hospital records. Kate Sanders was in and out of the emergency room from 1987 to 1992. Cracked skull, broken arms, broken jaws, multiple bruises-"

"Ralph was abusing her," Nick breathed. "That's why she moved to San Gabriel with Greg. She ran away from him and raised Greg on her own." He was glad that the woman had kept Greg from harm but he would never forgive the couple for stealing his little brother from his family. It still wasn't right. "What about the van?"

"I ran the plate," Catherine said. "It was stolen five days ago."

"Dammit," Nick hissed. "How the hell are we supposed to find him? He could be anywhere by now."

"We'll check to see if Ralph has bought anything with a credit card or if he has any property under his name," Catherine replied. "But for now, there's nothing we can do but wait."

"We can't just sit here! They could be doing who knows what to Greg right now!"

"Pancho, calm down," Bill said gruffly.

"No! I lost him once and it was my fault, I can't let it happen twice!" With that he spun around and stormed out. He went into the locker room and began to pace until he angrily punched the locker with a shout. He growled in pain, cradling his pulsing hand before sitting down on the bench. He was terrified that he was never gonna see his little brother again. It took him forever to recover from the first time…he hadn't even _fully_ recovered. If he lost Greg again, he didn't think he would ever be the same. He looked up at the ceiling as tears stung his eyes when he was interrupted by the sharp ring of his cellphone. Sniffing, he composed himself before answering wearily.

"Hello?"

_"Hello Stokes, feeling pretty shitty huh? Losing your little brother twice."_

Nick tensed. "Who is this?"

_"I think you already know."_

Ralph. Shit. "What have you done with Greg? I swear to god if you hurt him-"

_"I think it's a little too late for that. He's barely conscious. He and his bitch mother left me and cancer already killed Kate for me…but Greg is still alive…for now anyways."_

Nick choked. He needed to go trace this phone…it was probably the only way he was going to find Greg.

_"If you even think about going to trace this call, Greg will die."_

"What do you want?" Nick seethed.

_"Nothing. I just wanna see your family suffer."_

The Texan ran a hand down his face. "Please…I'll do anything. Just take me, don't hurt him anymore."

_"Hmm…the offer is very tempting."_

"Please, just let him go."

The line was silent for a moment before Ralph spoke again. _"Alright, since you asked so nicely. I'll text you the address after we hang up. But come alone and don't tell anyone, because if you do, you'll never see little Greg alive again."_

"Okay."

_"Good. See you soon Nicholas."_

Nick shuddered and hung up the phone, not long after getting a text with the address of Greg's location. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed his gun from the locker and then wrote a quick note, sticking it to Warrick's locker with a magnet. He then quickly left the building without being noticed. He just hoped someone would see the note before it was too late.

~+CSI+~

Nick eased his car to a stop in front of an old barn that was falling apart. He was in the middle of nowhere and it unnerved him. The second he got out, he got this eerie feeling in his body, the cold air making him shiver. Taking a deep breath, he slid open the large door and looked inside. The space was empty…except there was a man slumped in a chair in the center, unmoving.

"Oh my god…Greg?" He ran over, Ralph nowhere to be seen, and knelt in front of the man, cupping his bloodied face. "Jesus, what did he do to you?" He lifted Greg's chin before patting his cheek to try and wake him. "Greggo? Come on bud." The kid looked horrible; his face was covered in cuts, blood, and bruises. His lip was busted and his left eye looked swollen shut. "Gr-" A cock of a gun sounded behind him and Nick gasped, his back straightening. He felt the cold metal against the back of his neck and he closed his eyes. He should've checked the area first.

"Hello Nicholas. Stand up."

Nick put his hands up and got to his feet and let himself reluctantly be led away from his brother. They went to the other end of the barn and two men came out of another room with a bucket.

"What are you doing," Nick said, fear in his voice. "What is that?"

"Relax, Nicky," Ralph chuckled. "It's just something to wake him up."

Nick wanted to go and stop them, but he couldn't with the gun to his head. He watched as the bucket of liquid was thrown onto Greg and the blonde immediately jerked awake, breathing heavily in panic. The two men each held his shoulders to stop him from struggling against his binds.

"Easy Greg, you don't want to chafe your wrists, do you?" Ralph grinned, causing Greg to look over. His eye that wasn't swollen widened when he saw the Texan.

"Ni-Nick?" One of the men punched him brutally in the stomach, forcing Greg to double over as far as he could, gasping for air.

"Hey!"

"Ah, ah," Ralph said, pressing the gun harder against Nick's head.

Nick hated being this helpless but he didn't want to get himself and Greg killed. "Okay, you have me now. Just let him go."

"Not until we have some fun first."

"What!? You said-"

"I know what I said, but you didn't say right away."

Nick felt his heart pound against his chest. What the hell were they gonna do to the kid?

"Please…don't hurt him anymore. Hurt me instead."

"No…you I don't really have a beef with. It's Greg and his mother, may she burn in hell, who left me. I got her a baby when we couldn't have any and five years later she got up and ran like the coward she was. I swore that when I found the both of them, I'd make them pay."

"She left because you abused her and I don't blame her. I'm glad she got away," Nick growled before he was punched in the back.

"Shut up. I gave that ungrateful bitch everything. Now it's time for Greg to pay." He nodded to his men and they started beating the younger CSI up with their bare hands. Each time a punch was delivered, Greg would cry out, Nick's stomach twisted and Ralph just laughed. This went on for five minutes and Greg was barely hanging onto consciousness. And Nick couldn't take it anymore; they were _killing_ his best friend and with each punch, the rage grew until it started boiling over the top. His vision flashed white with fury as he punched the gun out of Ralph's hand and slammed his fist into the man's temple, sending him to the ground like a rock. The men beating Greg saw this and came running towards Nick angrily, but they were no match for an extremely pissed off Texan. He broke one guys arm and kicked him in the groin and stomach before throwing him against the wall. The other guy punched him in the face but he quickly brushed it off and kicked him in neck. The man gasped for a breath, holding his throat and sinking to the ground. Nick cuffed them all before running over to Greg; his breathing was shallow and ragged, blood dripping from his mouth and nose. This kid was gonna be in a lot of pain.

"N-Ni…Nick-k-k," Greg stuttered weakly.

"Hey, you're okay now," Nick said as he started untying the ropes that held Greg to the chair. "Don't talk. I got you."

"Y-You're my brother…my _r-real _b-brother?"

"Yeah, kiddo. And I'm never gonna let anything like this happen again. I promise." He heard sirens in the distance and he smiled; backup was coming, thank God. "We're gonna get you patched up." When he was finished, he wrapped his arms around Greg and hugged him tight…well, as tight as he could without hurting him. The man's body was trembling violently and whether it was from the pain, the water or both, Nick wasn't sure. He was just happy to have the man alive and conscious. He never wanted to let the kid go. He was afraid if he did, he might disappear again. He wasn't about to make that mistake again.

"Can you walk?"

"T-Think so," Greg replied tiredly.

"Alright, we're just gonna go outside. Lean on me all you want."

Greg nodded and Nick lifted him to his feet before slinging the kid's arm around his shoulder. The rest of the time went by in a blur. The team showed up and the officers arrested Ralph and his men, Greg was taken away in an ambulance and Nick went with him, refusing to let the blonde out his sight. It was all gonna be okay now. He was gonna make sure of it.

~+C+~

Nick sat next to Greg's hospital bed and watched him sleep peacefully. He smiled sadly; the man's face was littered with fading bruises and cuts, but they had cleaned him up fairly well. He had three broken ribs, cracked jaw, and a concussion…plus he was going to be extremely sore for a few weeks. Nick was just thankful everything was back to normal. He brushed the sweaty strands of blonde hair from Greg's forehead before standing up and leaving the room to go meet his parents who had just arrived.

"Is he in there?" Jillian asked eagerly when they approached the Texan.

"Yes, mom," he smiled. "He's resting."

"How is he?"

"He'll be sore for a while, but he's gonna be okay."

"And emotionally?" Bill asked. "Does he know that he's…our son?"

"Yeah…I told him before he was kidnapped. I don't know what his response to it will be, he didn't exactly have time to."

Bill squeezed Nick's shoulder. "You did good son, I'm proud of you."

"Thanks Cisco," Nick sighed.

"Can we go see him?"

"Sure. Doctor said he will wake up in the next couple of hours."

Nick's parents nodded and walked into the room. Jillian gasped; she had seen Greg before, Nick had spoken about him more than once and she didn't really think much of the strange resemblance to herself. You would think a mother would know her child that had been taken away from her, but she didn't. She had convinced herself that her son was dead and he was never coming back…now she had a whole new view of the blonde. Granted, he was covered in dark bruises, but it was him. She saw it now. A wide grin spread on her face as she slowly walked up to the bed and gently cupped his neck. "God…I can't believe it's really him," she whispered. Bill smiled too. They finally had their son back.

**Three Hours Later**

Greg sluggishly blinked his eyes open, relieved that the swelling had finally gone down. He was sore and exhausted but he had things to take care of. Questions he wanted answered. And the first thing was finding out where the hell he was.

"N-Nick?"

There was movement besides him and someone grabbed his hand. "Greg? Hey buddy."

Greg peered over to see the Texan swimming into view, grinning eagerly.

"Y-You…okay?" Greg whispered hoarsely. "Gotta b-big bruise."

Nick rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, kid. It's nothing. I'm just glad you're okay. Those guys beat you up pretty badly. You're gonna be sore for a while."

Greg swallowed and nodded. "So…I wasn't dreaming when…when you said I was your brother."

Nick shook his head. "It was real. All real." He looked down for a moment. "What do you think about that?"

Greg sighed. "You've always been like a big brother to me, Nick. I don't think much will change except for the fact that I _know_ you're actually my blood brother and that my mom is alive and my dad is around."

Nick exhaled and smiled. "I've missed you so much. I'm sorry I let you get kidnapped twice."

Greg smirked tiredly. "I don't blame you. You were just a kid."

"Don't…I still should've been watching you. I was old enough to know better. I failed."

"You didn't fail. You still found me; that's all that mattered." He squeezed Nick's hand and before he knew it, the Texan brought him into a tight embrace, a few tears making their way down his face. "I love you little brother."

"I love you too," Greg replied, his voice muffled by Nick's shoulder. After a few minutes, they pulled apart, both wiping their face. Greg chuckled. "That sounded weird didn't it."

"Yeah…very. But we'll get used to it." He ruffled Greg's blonde hair and for once, the younger man didn't get mad about his style being messed up. "Where are your mom and…I mean _our_ mom and dad?"

"They went to go get a coffee. I think-"

"Gr-Greg?"

They looked towards the door to see Jillian and Bill standing there. Greg smiled nervously; he never really got to know his parents, he had been really young when he had been taken and he always looked up to Kate to being his mom. He never knew the truth until he decided to help out Nick. Kate had taken care of him even though she wasn't his real mom; she fed him, provided shelter for him, got him through school and college and overall just a great mom. She had kept him Ralph from hurting him, getting the brunt of the abuse, until she couldn't take it anymore and took him and ran away. She may not have been his mom, but she was as good as.

"Hi," Jillian said quietly as she moved into the room.

"Hi," Greg repeated. And before he got a chance to say anything else, Jillian briskly walked over and hugged her son. Greg hesitated, glancing at Nick before hugging back. Bill came over too and joined the embrace. Jillian and Greg were crying and even Bill shed some tears. Nick watched the reunion with happy tears before he joined the group. Their family was back together again and nothing was ever going to change that. But he knew one thing, he was going to be even more protective over the kid even if it annoyed him. But he didn't care, not one bit.

**FIN**

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	20. Harm

**Harm**

_**Prompt for: Guest: Greg maybe becoming depressed and self-harming? And due to this he develops panic attacks, maybe Nick could walk in on him?**_

**Sorry for the long wait, its finals weeks and once I get writing a story, I don't want to do anything else, therefore I had to refrain from doing so unfortunately. But I'm back! Enjoy!**

Greg stared at himself in the mirror and tried to take a deep breath. He had been having panic attacks ever since the explosion and then after he learned his back would be a mess of pink and white scars from the burns and skin grafts. He was a freak and he couldn't help think that everyone knew how much of one he really was. He wanted to tell someone so bad, but he was afraid they would laugh at him…and he wouldn't be able to deal with something like that. He wiped the tears from his eyes, willing his trembling body to relax before he sat down on the edge of the bath tub so he wouldn't collapse. This was his fifth panic attack this week and he knew that he should probably go see a doctor; if he had an episode while he was working, he would ruin samples and everyone would hate him for screwing up cases. But that's just what he was: a screw-up…a freak…a loser. He choked a sob and his vision zoomed in on the razor sitting on the sink. Greg bit his bottom lip before leaning forward and grabbing it; he pushed up his sleeve and stared at the old scars. Some were from the explosion and some were healing cuts that he had made the previous week. It was a bad habit, but it made the emotional hurt and physical pain go away instantly. Swallowing thickly, he carved into his skin, the blood slowly seeping out and trickling down his arm and to the floor. When Greg was finished, his breathing evened and he felt calmer; he gazed down at the cuts spelling the word freak, last week's word being loser. It was probably bad for his self-confidence, but seeing those words and knowing that's what he was…knowing that he was _accepting_ that's _who_ he was made him feel at ease. Greg tipped his head back in relief, his heart no longer pounding against his chest. Minutes passed before he started to feel normal again. Exhaling softly, he got up and rinsed the blood off his arm before wrapping it with a clean bandage. When he was finished, he went to his room to get ready for work; it was supposed to be eighty-five degrees out, but he had to wear a long sleeve shirt…he couldn't let anyone see what he had been doing. If they did…if _Grissom_ did, he would fire him for sure. He _was_ a liability after all. Ten minutes later, he was headed out the door to start another day…he was just waiting for the moment when his stability would finally crack. He had a feeling it would be sooner rather than later.

~+CSI+~ 

Nick was really worried about Greg. He knew something was up with the kid, but he just thought it was about the explosion that happened a while ago. He was still pretty pissed about the whole thing and that he wasn't there to protect Greg or make sure he was okay. He was also still pissed at Catherine for being so careless, but Greg told him to drop it and that it was just an accident…yeah, it was an accident, one that almost killed his best friend. He had stayed with the blonde the entire time he was in the hospital after he finished the case, making sure he wasn't alone…because it had been traumatizing. He let Greg stay with him for the following week once he got out and the constant nightmares killed the Texan a little inside. He hated that his best friend was hurting and there really wasn't anything he could do about it. However, he knew that even though the explosion had been bad, the behavior that Greg was displaying wasn't just because of that. There was something else. He would act jittery and his hands were shaking constantly, he was always pulling on his sleeves and he just seemed depressed, quiet, and sometimes irritable…just the complete opposite of who Greg was _supposed_ to act. He was supposed to be jamming to music, joking around, _smiling._ He didn't want to say anything, because he knew Greg was still pretty sensitive, but he wanted to help. Taking the sidelines was not something he did best, especially when it came to someone he considered a little brother.

"Hey man," he walked into Greg's newly restored lab, tossing a few evidence bags on his table. "How's it going?"

Greg looked up from his microscope with a weak smile. He shrugged, but winced when it disturbed his still healing scars. "Okay. What do you got for me?"

"Hair, blood, and semen samples…the usual."

Greg nodded and scratched his head…which made his sleeve ride up his arm a little, showing the bandage.

"What's that? Are you okay?"

Greg gasped and dropped his arm, pulling the sleeve to his wrist. "N-Nothing."

"Greg?"

"It's from the explosion…" he started breathing heavily. He was gonna have another panic attack if Nick didn't let this go. "I accidently scratched a scar this morning and it started bleeding.

"No, it was your right arm that got burnt not your left."

Greg looked fearfully up at the Texan, his chest tight and his breathing shaky. The walls were closing in on him and his vision became gray around the edges. He needed air; he stumbled to his feet and ran out of the room.

"Greg! Wait!" Nick yelled before running after the blonde. The kid was surprisingly fast and unfortunately lost him…but he knew Greg well enough to know where he was going. Nick rushed up the emergency exit stairs. When he got to the roof, he found the blonde on his hands his knees, body trembling and gasping for air.

"Greg?" He rushed over and feel to his knees next to the man, resting a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "You okay, buddy?"

But all Greg did was wheeze and cough, scaring the crap out of Nick. "Greggo, talk to me buddy. Breathe!" Jesus, what was going on with this kid? He wrapped his arm around Greg's chest and sat him up, letting the man lean against him. "Come on bud, breathe with me. Don't do anything else but breathe." He hugged the blonde, rubbing circles on his back while he waited for Greg to start exhaling normally. He coughed a lot and his trembling didn't stop, but his body started to become slack in Nick's hold. They stayed like that for several minutes until Greg pulled away, wiping his face and refusing to make eye contact with the Texan. He had full on freaked out in front of the man…it was embarrassing and he really didn't want to end up having to explain it.

"You alright?" Nick asked.

"Y-Yeah. Think so."

"What _was_ that?"

Greg bit his lip. "Panic attack…" he wasn't lying completely. He just didn't say anything about the cutting. God, he wished he could do that right now, then maybe he would feel better than this. He was weak and Nick probably wanted to spit that out at him. "Been h-having them ever since after the…you know."

Nick pursed his lips sadly. "Shit man, why didn't you say anything? I would've helped or something. You scared the crap out of me down there."

"Sorry. I just…I didn't think it was important." He rubbed his eyes tiredly. They always left him pretty exhausted. "You've already done enough for me as it is, I didn't want to bother you."

"Greggo, you could never bother me, I promise. I just want you to be okay. You're my best friend and I hate seeing you hurt." Greg smiled weakly as the Texan helped him stand to wobbly legs. "Maybe you should go home. I know panic attacks drain a lot of people's energy. I'm sure Grissom-"

"No," Greg said, shaking his head. "I have a lot of work to do, I can't go home."

"Greg-"

"Please…can you not say anything about this to anyone?"

Nick sighed and nodded. "I promise."

"Thank you." The younger man pushed past him and walked back down the stairs. The job had to get done as much as he wanted to take Nick's advice to go home and sleep, because he _still_ hasn't gotten a good night's sleep in almost a month and he was about ready to collapse. Nick sighed and followed the blonde back down into the building. They both went their separate ways, Nick to the layout room and Greg to his lab, and got to work. Hours passed without an incident, Nick deciding to let the bandage mystery drop for the moment and letting Greg be alone…until he found the kid in the breakroom, his head resting on top of his folded arms and asleep. Nick smiled and went to shake his shoulder.

"G. Greg wake up."

The man jerked awake, blinking groggily at him before realizing where he was. Before he could open his mouth, Nick stopped him.

"I'm taking you home, Greg, no arguing. I know you've been having nightmares still and that you haven't been sleeping well. You need to go home, lay down and relax. You'll feel a hundred times better in the morning."

Greg doubted it, but he didn't protest. He was about to go to the locker room when Nick turned him the other way. "Go get in the car, I'll grab your things."

Again, Greg didn't object and went to go wait in Nick's truck. Three minutes later, Nick got into the vehicle and Greg was already half asleep. By the time Nick dropped him off and he walked up to his apartment, he could barely stand on his two feet. He didn't know why he was so tired all of a sudden. He dropped his things on the floor and once his face hit the pillow, he was out like a light.

And he was right…the next morning he felt, not a hundred times better, but the complete opposite. Nick knew about one of his problems, when would he find out about the other one? He trudged into the bathroom and gazed at himself in the mirror. He looked like absolute crap; dark shadows underlined his eyes, his face was pale and drawn and his hair was messier than usual. This wasn't him…but then again, maybe it was. The normal Greg wasn't a freak…a loser. But the new Greg was. He was a screw-up; he couldn't even make it through the whole workday without having an episode. A few tears dripped down his cheeks. He was just waiting for the day when Grissom would fire him, when Nick and Warrick would laugh at him, when Catherine and Sara ignored him. When he was no longer part of their family and when he would end up being alone for the rest of his miserable, scar filled life. Greg began to hyperventilate, another panic attack starting to form. _Worthless, freak, nothing, weak._ He choked a sob and grabbed the ever so familiar razor from the sink before pulling off the bandage from his arm. He normally didn't cut more than once a week so he could give the lacerations time to heal, but this was a bad week. A _really_ bad week. The cuts from yesterday hadn't healed…in fact it looked almost infected, but he didn't care. With shaky hands, he was just about to press the blade to his forearm when there was a knock on the door. He gasped, dropping the razor in the sink; who the hell could that be? He glanced at his watch and realized he had to work in twenty minutes. It had to be Nick. Greg rewrapped his arm- not realizing he mistakenly put the old bandage back on- pulled on a shirt, wiped his face and walked over to the door. It was Catherine.

"Catherine? What are you doing here?"

"I'm taking you to work," she smiled.

"You don't have to do that, I have my car."

Catherine chuckled. "Your car is at the lab remember? Nicky took you home because you were sick."

Greg frowned and then he recollected that Nick had brought him home last night, which meant his own car stayed in the parking lot. "Oh." How could he have forgotten that?

The older women frowned, pressing a hand to his forehead. "Are you sure you're okay to work? You feel a little warm."

"I'm fine. Let me go get dressed." He turned, leaving the door open for Catherine, and went to go get ready. Five minutes later, he emerged from his room and the two walked out to the car. The drive to the lab was silent and Catherine became worried; Nick was right, something was up with this kid. She hadn't mentioned that the Texan had told her about the panic attack because Greg told him not to say anything, but how could he not? He was a worried friend and big brother.

"Are you okay, Hun?" Catherine asked.

"Yeah." Greg replied. "Just tired."

The woman knew he was lying, but she wasn't about to push it. The kid had a rough month. "Maybe you should take a couple more weeks off… you came back pretty early after the explosion."

But what he heard was _"you should just quit because no one wants a freak like you around."_ He looked out the window, holding back the tears so Catherine wouldn't think he was being pathetic. When they got to the lab, Greg quickly muttered a thanks before rushing into the building. Throughout the day, he swore he was really starting to imagine things. People were whispering, stopped talking when he entered the room, stared at him…_glared_ at him. Like he wasn't wanted. But maybe he wasn't imagining it. God, he was so hot, when did he start sweating? His arm ached and he just wanted to go home…maybe cutting would ease the pain. But he couldn't just leave. He had a job no matter how many people hated him right now. He pushed past his suddenly blurry vision, blinking furiously and continued to work.

"Hey Greg," Warrick said, coming into Greg's lab. When the blonde looked up the older man froze. "Whoa, are you alright? You look like shit."

Greg's vision became distorted, as were Warrick's words. _"Get your shit together; you're such a screw-up and a freak not even your mom came to see you in the hospital. I bet she was hoping she wouldn't have to deal with you anymore. Why don't you just do everyone a favor and leave? We were so much better without you here."_

Greg swallowed thickly, feeling his cheeks burn and his chest hurt. Maybe he was better off going home.

"Greg?"

"Um…I-I'll be right back. I need to go to the bathroom."

Warrick looked confused. "Alright." He watched Greg disappear around the corner, the kid glancing back once with eyes filled with hurt. But Greg didn't go to the bathroom; he went straight for the exit. He didn't bother telling anyone he was leaving…who would miss him anyways? He just couldn't take it anymore.

~+CSI+~

Nick walked into Catherine's office twenty minutes later, just getting back from his scene. He had gone to Greg's lab to check on him and see if he was doing better, but he wasn't there. He checked the bathroom, the roof, the breakroom, everywhere and there was no sign of the younger man. "You picked up Greg, right?" He asked the blonde.

"Yeah, I did…why he's not in his lab?"

"No, I can't find him anywhere. Unless he's joking around and playing a game of hide and seek…but I doubt it. Greg hasn't been himself lately."

"You're telling me. He looked horrible this morning and he completely forgot that you had taken home last night. If I hadn't shown up, he probably would've thought his car got stolen."

"Did he say anything to you on the ride over?"

"Barely. I asked if he was okay and he said he was just tired. I suggested that he take a few extra weeks off and he acted like I stabbed him. He was quiet the rest of the way."

"Are you talking about Greg?" Warrick said, coming into the room.

The other two frowned. "Yeah, why?"

"I was talking to him earlier and he tuned out for a moment. When he snapped out of it he said he had to go to the bathroom and I haven't seen him since. I'll go check the parking lot."

Nick bit the inside of his cheek nervously before pulling out his phone and dialing Greg's number. Unfortunately, it went straight to voicemail. "Dammit. He's not answering." He was really worried that something bad had happened to the kid.

"His car is gone," Warrick said once he returned. "Maybe he went home?"

"Without telling any of us? That's not like Greg," Catherine said.

"Yeah, but Greg hasn't been acting like Greg…he's been a completely different person after the explosion," Nick sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I'll go to his apartment and see what's going on."

He left the building and sped over to Greg's apartment, scared as to what he would see. Greg was his best friend and he wished the kid would talk to him…he hated seeing him so depressed.

When he got to the man's door, his heart leapt…it was slightly open. He placed his hand over his gun and quietly stepped into the room. "Greg?" He heard a noise coming from down the hall…crying. Frowning, he slowly made his way towards the sound, realizing that Greg was in the bathroom. He opened the door and his heart dropped at what he saw.

"G-Greg?" The blonde was _carving _into his arm, blood dripping on the floor. He must've startled the man, because he suddenly gasped in both pain and surprise.

"Nick!" He spun around, hiding his now blood-gushing arm behind his back. He knew he had nicked something…he was bleeding too much now. "What are…" he blinked, his vision doubling. "W-What…what are you d-do…" he began to feel extremely lightheaded and before he knew it, the floor tipped from underneath him and his face met the floor. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and darkness swallowed him whole.

"Greg!" Nick rushed over, unable to catch the blonde before he brutally hit the ground and started seizing. "Oh my god. Holy shit." He gently laid him flat and then gently holding his head down. "Just hang on buddy, you're gonna be okay. Please just be okay." He quickly grabbed a towel from the rack and tightly wrapped it around Greg's arm to hopefully staunch the bleeding…at least for now. Nick's hands shook as he pulled out his phone and called an ambulance. Greg finally stopped convulsing, but Nick knew that was a bad thing. His pulse was weak and his breathing was shallow. "Hang on, Greg, please hang on."

~+C+~

Nick washed his hands down his face before glancing at the clock on the wall. Greg had been gone forever and it was making him nervous…what he saw in the ambulance had been upsetting.

**Fifteen Minutes Earlier**

_Nick followed Greg's gurney out of the apartment and to the awaiting ambulance, his heart racing and refusing to let his eyes leave his friend. He couldn't believe the kid was cutting himself…and he didn't even notice. Once they boarded the vehicle, it sped off towards the hospital._

_ "Male late 20's, multiple lacerations on his right forearm," the medic said into the radio while placing an oxygen mask over Greg's mouth. "Looks infected and his fever is at 103.3 and climbing. Had a two minute seizure before we got to the scene."_

_ "Jesus." Nick stared at the scars and it made his heart sink. Loser, freak, wannabee, worthless; those were all the words that Greg had cut into his skin. The thought of Greg believing himself to be those things hurt. The cuts were extremely red, pus oozing from some of it and he knew Greg had let it get infected. "Dammit Greg." How could he be so careless? He ran his fingers through his hair before gently grabbing Greg's hand and watching the medics wrap up the wound until they could take care of the situation better._

_ "What's the ETA?" The medic said calmly to the driver._

_ "Three Minutes."_

_ "Is he gonna be okay?" Nick questioned anxiously._

_ "His fever is a little high and he's lost quite a bit of blood, but I think he'll get through. It's the emotional stability that might be the problem. Most people who self-harm show expressive symptoms. Has he seemed distracted, wearing long sleeves all the time, sad, irritated or scared?"_

_ Now that Nick though about it…Greg had constantly been wearing long sleeve shirts even when it was hot outside. Granted, the lab got a little cold with the air-conditioning, but Greg always liked to wear his t-shirts with band names or weird pictures on it. Lately, he hasn't. He also remembered Greg's panic attacks and whenever he was confronted about something, he would end up having one. He was quiet, not himself…sad. How did he not notice it? Maybe he just didn't want to believe that Greg would do that to himself. "I'm so sorry, bud," he whispered, brushing back the kid's blonde hair from his forehead. "You should've come to me." He pursed his lips and sighed. How was he gonna get Greg through this when the blonde clearly didn't want anyone to find out?_

**Present**

"Nicky?"

The Texan lifted his head from his hands to see Catherine come into Greg's room, followed by Sara, Warrick and Grissom. He sighed heavily and sat back in his chair while they filed into the room before glancing at his unconscious friend. They had finally called him back to see the kid. They had cleaned the cuts, stitching up the really bad one, and giving him medications to get rid of the infection and bring the down the fever. His face was still void of color, a sheen of sweat coating his forehead and his breathing was still a little raspy.

"Hey."

"What the hell happened?" Catherine breathed.

"I don't…I don't know. I went to his place and I found him, god…" he wiped his mouth. "He was cutting himself."

Sara gasped. "He what?"

"He was carving words into himself," Nick shuddered, trying not to look at Greg's bandages. It just made him think about the cuts…the words.

"What words?" Warrick asked.

Nick swallowed. "Worthless…freak…loser. I knew something was wrong. I just wish he said something."

"Is he going to be okay?" Grissom pipped up.

"Physically, yeah…mentally…I honestly don't know. What are we gonna do?"

Catherine sighed. She knew this was all began because of the explosion in the lab…that was her fault. "Did you…have you talked to him at all?"

The Texan shook his head. "No. When I walked in on him, I must've startled him into nicking the vein. He asked what I was doing there, but I think the shock and blood loss got to him and he collapsed. He's been unconscious ever since."

"Poor guy," Warrick said.

"Yeah," Nick replied, resting his hand over Greg's. It was cold. All of a sudden, Greg let a moan pass through lips and Nick sat forward eagerly. "Greg? Can you hear me?"

The blonde's head rolled on the pillow and finally his dull brown eyes flickered open, surveying the area cautiously. "Where m'I?"

"Hospital," Catherine smiled softly as she came to the other side of the bed.

Greg clenched his jaw…and when he saw the bandage wrapped around his arm, he knew. _Shit._ This was embarrassing.

"You remember what happened don't you," Nick stated sort of harshly.

A single tear slipped down Greg's cheek as he looked away in shame. He never wanted anyone to find out what he had been doing.

"Greg?" Nick urged.

"I didn't mean for it to get this far," he mumbled hoarsely.

Nick laughed humorlessly. "Really? How far were you trying to get? Until you lost your arm from an infection you failed to see? Until you died? Until you ended up telling us? Lord knows the last one wasn't going to fucking happen."

"Nick-" Catherine began to cut in.

"No! How could you be so _stupid_ Greg? So careless?! You could've killed yourself! God, I can't believe you would do something so selfish!" He shot up from the chair and stormed out of the room.

Everyone was speechless…including Greg who was trembling in shock. More tears welled in his eyes. He couldn't believe Nick just yelled at him like that.

"Greg, don't take what he said to heart, okay?" Catherine said. "He just gets angry when he's scared. And you scared us all pretty bad. He didn't mean it."

Greg looked down at his hands; they were shaking. "No…he's right. It was stupid." He felt so guilty right now. He didn't even want to look up, because he didn't want to see the disappointment and judgment in everyone's eyes. How _could_ he be so thoughtless? He almost killed himself and now the whole team knew what a freak he was. He wished he had died. Then maybe Nick wouldn't be so mad with him…maybe they all wouldn't hate him and maybe Grissom wouldn't think about firing him because he was the weakest. "Can I…can I be alone for a bit?" He whispered, trying not to break down in front of the team.

They all shared a sad look before heading for the door. "You're going to be okay, Hun," Catherine smiled. "Just hang in there. And Nick will come around soon."

Greg didn't say anything and just waited until they all left. He hated himself so much right now, probably more than Nick hated him. They were all better off without him; he knew that for sure and the best thing to do was leave. Swinging his legs over the bed, he took out the I.V. wrote a quick, messy note for anyone that might care and shuffled to the door. Once he made sure the coast was clear, he disappeared down the hall and to the stairs for the roof. He was going to jump. He just couldn't deal with having no one anymore…he couldn't deal with being a _freak_ anymore.

~+CSI+~

Nick walked back down the hall to Greg's room. He really hated himself for getting so angry with Greg. There was no right to yell at a kid that was obviously mentally fragile. What the hell was he thinking? He should've asked why he was feeling the way he was feeling…what caused him to do all this instead of calling him stupid and selfish. _Yeah, great brothering Nick._ He needed to make it up big time. He entered the room and his heart stopped. Greg's bed was empty.

"What the-" he turned to go to the nurse's station, praying they had taken Greg for a test or something. "Where's Greg Sanders?"

"He's not in his room?"

"No…he's not getting some type of test?"

"It doesn't say anything on here," the nurse replied. "Have you checked the bathroom?"

Nick shook his head and went back into the room. God, could he have driven Greg away? The bathroom was empty and he was starting to get nervous. And that's when he saw the piece of paper on the bed. _I'm sorry._

"Oh god." Greg was going to do something dangerous…he was going to hurt himself. And he knew just where to go. He took the stairs to the roof two at a time, dread filling his chest. What has he done? He burst out the door and screeched to a stop when he saw the blonde on the edge of the roof…ready to jump.

"Greg," he said cautiously, not wanting to startle the man into falling. "Greg…please."

The man turned around, tears streaking his fear-filled face. "Come to yell at me some more?" Greg said quietly, looking back over the edge.

"No…that was an asshole thing for me to do. I should've asked why you were feeling so shitty instead of shouting at you and putting you down," he stepped closer. "That's not what a big brother does."

Greg sniffed, shaking his head. "You were right anyways. I was being stupid and didn't think about how it would affect you guys."

"No, I wasn't right, Greg. It sucks that we had to find out this way, but it was up to you to tell someone…it would've been better if you said something sooner, but…please just get down so we can talk about this." It was starting to get windy and one strong gust could knock him over.

"I'm not needed…the world is better off without a freak and a loser around. Without me around."

"Greg that's not true," Nick said, his voice cracking in fear as he got right behind his friend. He was so close. "Get off…come on, you're scaring me."

Greg looked back at him and swallowed. "I'm sorry." He put his foot over the ledge to get ready to jump off.

"NO!" Nick shouted while leaping forward and tightly grabbing Greg's bicep and pulling him off. They fell into a heap on the roof and Greg immediately started sobbing violently. Nick began crying too, hugging the man tightly and never wanting to let go. He had almost lost his little brother…he had been so close to watching him jump off the building and kill himself. He rocked Greg back and forth, digging his face into the kid's blonde hair. There had been only three times when he had been scared: when he was molested by his babysitter, when he was held at gunpoint by a murder suspect two years ago, and then when he found out about the explosion and that Greg was hurt pretty badly. Now he could add Greg nearly dying and almost killing himself to the list. God, this kid was going to give him heart attacks.

"You're gonna be okay, buddy," he whispered over Greg's crying. "I promise you're gonna okay. I've got you now. I've got you."

~+C+~

Nick rubbed his forehead as he watched Greg sleep. They had been on the roof for nearly fifteen minutes before Greg finally calmed down enough to walk back down to the hospital and to his room. The second he got into bed, physical and emotional exhaustion took over and Greg passed out. They were gonna have to talk about this…a lot, but for now Greg needed all the rest he could get. He knew Greg probably hasn't had a good night's since the lab incident and now that everything was out in the open and not weighing down on him, the kid could finally relax. He smiled sadly before standing up and going to the bathroom to splash water on his face; he was exhausted too, but he wanted to wait for Greg to wake up so they could talk. There was no avoiding this.

**Two Hours Later**

"N-Nick?"

The Texan quickly looked up from his book to see Greg staring at him with his big brown eyes. Nick smiled and sat forward. "Hey Greggo. How are you feeling?"

The blonde shrugged and looked out the window. Nick sighed, shaking his head.

"Greg…please just talk to me. You…you scared the hell out of me up there and if I lost you…I don't know what I would do."

Greg looked at his hands…that were, once again, shaking. He clenched them and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry…I just…I didn't think anyone would care."

Nick saw Greg's hands trembling and he placed both of his over them. "Of course I would care…it would destroy me if I hadn't gotten to you in time. Greg, I'm here for you, okay? You can tell me anything."

Greg pursed his lips and nodded, though still making eye contact with the bedsheets rather than Nick. "A-After the explosion and I was in the hospital, the doctor had come to talk to me about the skin grafts and the scars. The burn scars would fade, but never completely disappear and the skin grafts…the scars were worse for those. They're going to be there for the rest of my life. It's not something anyone wants to hear in their mid-twenties."

"When did he tell you this? I was with you the entire time."

"It was when you went to get something to eat."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He remembered when he had come back from the cafeteria, Greg was silently crying. He had asked what was wrong, but Greg said that the pain meds were wearing off. He knew nothing about the skin grafts.

"I didn't want anyone to know, especially Catherine, because she already felt really bad about what happened. And I was afraid you guys would laugh…I'm a freak; my back looks disgusting." His voice shook. "I started cutting myself the day after I got released; I just…I thought it was the only solution."

"Jesus Greg. I would've helped you and none of us, specifically me, would ever laugh at you. You're my best friend, my brother and we're all a family. Your problems are our problems and you're definitely not a burden. We were all really worried about you."

"Really?"

"Of course we were. Like I said, we're a family." Nick smiled and placed a hand on Greg's arm. The blonde finally looked up and he seemed to appear a little better. Happier.

"Thank you, Nick," Greg smiled. "I'm sorry I didn't come to you earlier. It was senseless…to cut. Everyone's gonna see my scars and they're gonna know."

"Don't worry about it now, G. But if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, tell me. I'll kick their ass for you."

Greg laughed for the first time in a long time and it made Nick grin. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, man. You're okay now and if you ever need to talk, we're all here for you, okay?"

"Yeah. I know that now."

**Two Weeks Later**

It had been a long couple of weeks for Greg. He was in the hospital for a few more days before being released into someone's care…and that someone had been Nick. But it was just what Greg had needed…his big brother. They talked a lot, watched football, had Warrick over and had a beer and wing night and before they knew it, Greg was ready to go back to work. He felt much better knowing that he wasn't alone anymore. Greg had even let Nick see the scars from the explosion, he cried about it, Nick comforted him and now he no longer felt he had to hide the fact that they existed. No more secrets; he promised Nick that.

"Ready for your first day back?" Nick smiled after pulling up to Greg's apartment and the blonde got in. He was wearing a short sleeved shirt and Nick felt his heart swell. Greg _was_ doing better, that much was true.

"Yeah, finally. I was going insane being home all the time."

Nick laughed and drove away from curb. Greg stared at the fading brown scars on his arms and took a deep breath. Baby steps…maybe he shouldn't have worn a short sleeve so quickly.

"Greg, you're gonna be fine, I promise," Nick said, reading the kid's mind. "You can barely even see them now. You can talk about them or you don't have to; no one is pressuring you at all. It's your choice. And like I said, I'll beat anyone who gives you a weird look."

Greg rolled his eyes. The entire ride there, Nick was smiling and the younger man thought it was weird…and suspicious.

"Why are you smiling like that?" He frowned.

Nick chuckled. "Like what?"

"I don't know…you've just been smiling the whole drive. You're kind of creeping me out."

"I don't know what you're talking about, G-man," Nick laughed as they parked the car and walked into the lab.

"Nick, what's going on?"

"You'll see," Nick smirked as he led Greg towards the breakroom.

"Ni-"

"Surprise!"

Greg jumped and saw a bunch of people in the breakroom, Catherine, Warrick, Sara, and Grissom in the front with smiles on their faces. There were balloons and a 'welcome back' banner was strewn up in the back. Greg grinned widely and went in, letting everyone greet him.

"We're so glad you're okay, man," Warrick said after hugging him.

Catherine did the same. "We missed you; it's never the same when you're not here."

"Don't scare us like that again," Sara added.

"I won't," Greg breathed. "I promise."

Nick clapped Greg on the back, squeezed his shoulder. "Good. Cause what would we do without our crazy-lab rat?"

"Probably drown in DNA samples," Greg smirked.

"Most likely. There's only one guy for us," Catherine laughed.

Grissom came up, a small smile on his face. "I'm glad you're back, Greg. You're an amazing lab tech, don't forget that."

Greg was shocked to hear something like that come out of Grissom's mouth, especially towards him…but he was grateful. The blonde's face brightened. "Thank you."

"Alright," Nick said. "Time for some cake, I'm starving."

Everyone rolled their eyes. Nick dragged Greg over to the table, giving him one armed hug. "Made it myself."

Greg's eyes widened, his cheeks turning red in embarrassment. "Where did you get that? _How_ did you get that?" It was of him wearing that burlesque dancer's headdress from a couple years ago.

"I have my ways," Nick grinned.

"I hate you."

"You love me."

Catherine laughed. "It suits you…have you ever thought of becoming a dancer?"

Greg snorted. "Now more than ever. I don't think I can show my face around here again."

The others laughed and Nick tightened his hold around Greg's shoulders before pulling away to start cutting the cake. Greg smiled as he looked around at his family. He almost left all this and he knew it would've been a huge mistake.

**FIN**

**Next Prompt for:****_ Tadaa_**

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	21. The Vault

**The Vault**

_**Prompt for: Tadaa: How about Greg getting really sick and stuck in a room with only Nick to help with little to none supplies at all for 24 hrs and he gets worse every 30 mins? Ty!**_

**Enjoy!**

Greg coughed violently as he stood under the cold water in the lab's showers. He felt like shit and what was worse, he got to pull double duty tonight. He had just got back from dumpster diving with Warrick…well, he had lost rock, paper, scissors so only _he_ went diving. And now he smelled like crap; he wouldn't be surprised if he caught some disease in that dumpster. He was already feeling ill beforehand so he most likely just fed the sickness. Groaning as his muscles ached, Greg closed his eyes and let the water massage his head. He couldn't wait for this day to be over so he could go home and sleep for the next few days. Catherine had asked if he was okay when he came back with Warrick, but he said he was just tired. He didn't want her to think he was weak and being a baby; he was already considered "the baby" of the team and now that he was a CSI, he didn't want to disappoint them.

"Greg!"

The blonde flinched and opened his eyes, a wave of dizziness suddenly hitting him.

"Greg, come on I want to get this over with!"

It was Nick. The Texan hadn't been particularly happy to be working a case tonight, because apparently he was supposed to have a hot date tonight, but Sara called out sick and Grissom needed him to fill in. But the way Nick was acting, Greg wondered if he just wasn't happy to work with _him_. A rookie, a wannabe, an idiot.

"Be right there!"

"Just hurry up already!"

Greg sighed and shut off the water before wrapping a towel around his waist and stepping out of the shower. He quickly dried off, pulled on a new set of clothes, and took a couple pain pills to hopefully bring down his suddenly rising temperature.

The ride to the crime scene was silent, Nick didn't even put on music, so Greg knew he was pissed. "Are you okay?" He asked when they pulled into the parking lot of the bank.

"No, not really Greg," Nick snapped. "I've worked three weeks straight and today was my only day off. I had plans and now I'm stuck here with you."

Greg frowned and Nick's eyes went wide when he realized what had come out of his mouth.

"Wait, that came out wrong, I-"

"No, I think it came out exactly the way you wanted it to. I didn't know you felt that way, Nick. I thought you were happy that I became a CSI."

"Greg-"

"No it's fine. I know you think that I'm a screw-up and you're probably right." Without another word, the blonde exited the vehicle.

"Greg, wait!" Nick shouted, but the man disappeared and he mentally slapped himself for being so stupid. "Dammit." It wasn't Greg he was pissed at, he was just mad he had to cancel his date and mad that Grissom had called him out of all people. Or why not have Greg go alone? Sure he was a new CSI, but he had confidence the kid could pull a solo. Rubbing his eyes, Nick grabbed his kit and hopped out of the car. He was gonna have to apologize to Greg after this; he felt really bad for making the man think he was a screw-up.

When he got inside, Greg was already in the vault, with Doc Robbins, where the bank manager had been shot multiple times, laying in a pool of blood.

"Greg, what I said in the car…I didn't mean it."

The blonde remained silent, taking pictures of the scene.

"Greg?"

Still silent.

Nick rolled his eyes. He never thought Greg would hold a grudge, but he guessed there was a first for everything. He stepped out of the vault and went to go talk to Brass and the bank tellers. When he returned ten minutes later, Greg was alone. And he looked like shit; there was a thin layer of sweat coating his forehead and his glassy eyes were looking into space.

"Robbins went to go grab something," Greg said quietly when he realized Nick had returned. "But the time of death is thirty-six hours ago."

Nick sighed. Greg was only talking to him about work, but at least he was talking to him. "So he died Friday? How come no one noticed until now?"

"According to the assistant manager, the vault closes automatically every day at 8:30 and doesn't reopen until the next morning and the manager has to open with a code. When it closes for the weekend, it doesn't open until Monday." Greg wiped his forehead then coughed into his arm. The smell of the rotting corpse and the stuffiness of the vault was making him feel worse. Plus this oncoming headache wasn't helping.

"Greg, man, are you feeling alright? You look a little under the weather."

"I'm fine," he snapped.

"You sure as hell don't look it."

He could tell the meds were wearing off already, the aching in his muscles starting to return.

"Greg-"

"I said I was fine! It's not like you care!"

All of a sudden, the vault door slammed closed and they could hear the locks turning. They glanced at each other worriedly before running over and trying to open it.

"Hey! Hello!?" Nick shouted, pounding his fist on the door, even though knowing it would go unheard through the thick metal. "Brass!? Catherine!? Dammit. Greg, you getting any cell service?"

The blonde pulled out his phone and shook his head. "Nothing. Nick…its 8:30."

"What?"

"The door, remember? It closes at 8:30."

The Texan ran his fingers through his hair. "Shit."

~+CSI+~

Greg let out a shaky breath. Only an hour passed since the door closed on them and he was already starting to feel lightheaded and was having a hard time breathing. They had both tried to get a phone signal in different areas of the vault, but once again, no luck. Nick was trying to see if there was a secret button or something to get them out. They had both shed their vests due to the rising temperature in the room and Greg had undone a few buttons, but he still felt like he was suffocating…like he was in an oven. He looked at the dead and body and his stomach rolled; the stench was one-hundred times worse. The room spun and he knew it was only a matter of time before his body gave up on him.

"Fuck," Nick swore. "There's nothing here. What kind of bank vault doesn't have an emergency switch?" When Greg didn't answer, Nick wondered if the kid was still mad at him. He turned around and saw that Greg was swaying on his feet and he looked like death warmed over. His face and clothes were soaked with sweat, not to mention the lack of color in his skin.

"Greg? You feeling okay? And don't say you're fine, because you're not." Before he could step towards the blonde, Greg's knees folded underneath him and he collapsed against the wall, sliding to the floor.

"Greg! Oh my god." He rushed over and fell to his knees next to the man. "Damn, kid you're burning up." Greg's eyes were barely open and his breathing was coming out raspy. "Greg, can you hear me buddy?"

"J-Just a cold," Greg swallowed thickly. He blinked a few times and slowly lifted his head. "D-Don't…worry."

"Greg, this is way more than a cold."

Greg shivered and Nick could feel the man's sweat soaking into his own clothes. The blonde's body abruptly jerked and he leaned forward to expel vomit onto the floor. It seemed like it was going on forever; choking, gagging, coughing and whimpering in pain. Nick just sat there, rubbing Greg's back and coaxing him through it.

"Let it out, bud, just let it out. It'll be over soon."

After five minutes, Greg sagged back against the wall, breathing heavily and his face a shade paler than it was before. Nick was getting worried; Greg was really sick and there wasn't much he could do about it.

"Hang on, G. Let me get some water." The Texan crawled over to his kit and dragged it back over to Greg. He would be damned if he let the kid get dehydrated above all his other problems. He uncapped the bottle and tried to get Greg to drink it, but the blonde listed to the right, his eyes fluttering close. "Greg don't do this." He quickly wrapped his arm around Greg's shoulders and sat him up, holding him tightly. "Come on, Greggo, just take a couple sips."

"T-Tired," Greg replied softly, his eyes remaining shut.

"I know man, but you just lost half your body's water supply. You can't let yourself get dehydrated. You most likely have the flu and not to mention a growing fever."

The younger man moaned but forced his eyes open and looked at Nick tiredly. "Okay."

"Good." The older CSI brought the bottle up to Greg's mouth and helped him take a few sips. When he couldn't drink anymore, Greg weakly turned his head away and Nick put the cover back on before placing it by his side. The blonde panted and let his head fall on Nick's shoulder.

"Are we…are we ever gonna get out of here, Nick?"

"I hope so, bud. You just rest okay. I'll wake you up if anything happens."

"Okay." Greg leaned heavier on the Texan and the older man sighed. He really hoped they would get out of here in time. He didn't know how much longer the kid had. He sat there in thought before deciding to rummage through both of their kits to see if there were any supplies that could help his friend. He grabbed his discarded vest and gently laid the younger man's head down on it. He also took his jacket and draped it over Greg's shivering body. When he was sure the man was somewhat comfortable, he started looking through all three kits. Thank god, Doc had left his in here, maybe there was some strong medication buried deep down. Unfortunately, all he found was a thermometer, another bottle of water, and some cheap off brand Advil that he found in Greg's kit. It would probably only work for a couple hours and he didn't want to give him a lot. He suddenly heard a gasp behind him followed by whimpering.

"Nick? N-Nick!"

"Right here, buddy," the Texan said, sliding back over to the man. "I'm right here, you're okay." He brought the blonde into his grasp, trying to calm him by rubbing his hand up and down Greg's arm.

"Wh-What's going on? Where are we?"

Nick frowned worriedly. "The bank vault remember? We got shut in here."

"Oh…yeah." Greg rubbed his eyes and glanced around. "Find a way for us to get out of here?"

"No and I'm not sure how long we're gonna be stuck in here. The assistant manager said the manager was the only one who could open it. No one else has the code."

"We're gonna d-die in here aren't we."

"Don't think like that, G. We're gonna get out of here, I promise."

Greg quickly leaned forward and threw-up again, it mostly being watery bile. Nick hated the sound, wishing Greg didn't have to be in this pain. He rubbed circles on Greg's back and waited for the heaving to subside.

"God, that b-body…smells so…bad."

"Here," Nick said, pouring three pills into his hand and getting the water bottle when Greg finished. "You need to rehydrate."

Greg nodded without argument and swallowed the pills with the water. After, he laid his head against the wall a closed his eyes, trying to breathe normally. Nick sighed sadly; Greg didn't deserve this.

"Hey…about what I said in the car-"

"I know you didn't mean it, Nick, don't worry. Just…it hurt a lot, coming from you and part of me believed what you were saying, because well…I sort of believed it myself already. I know I'm not a good CSI."

"Greg, stop it. Look at me."

The blonde sluggishly opened his eyes and rolled his head to look at Nick.

"You're a damn good CSI and have so much potential. You're just new and it takes time to gain experience. You don't have to rush into anything."

"You're not just saying that?"

"Of course not, G. I would never lie about that. You're my best friend and I'm proud of you."

A smile broke out on Greg's pale face before his body jerked and he started throwing up again. Nick placed his hand back on the man's shoulder and sighed. "There goes the pills. Want to try again?"

Greg shook his head and stifled a sob. "S-Stomach…h-hurts. Tired."

"Okay. We'll try later, just lay down and relax."

Greg nodded and laid his head back down on Nick's vest. In seconds, he was fast asleep, though Nick was worried about his breathing sounding labored. He pressed his hand on Greg's forehead and then remembered the thermometer. Grabbing it, Nick stuck the device into the younger man's ear.

"Shit."

_103.4…103.5…103.8_. Greg's temperature was climbing dangerously. He really needed to find a way out so he could get Greg to a hospital. It had only been six hours and he prayed the team was out there and calling someone. Anyone. He wasn't gonna let another person die in here. Wiping the sweat from his own forehead, Nick grabbed his phone and stood up to try and find reception even though it was probably pointless. The battery was almost dead so he had to make this one count. Nick went way into the corner, squishing himself up against the wall by the door. And there was something…one bar…he almost cried in joy. He pressed Catherine's speed dial and laughed in relief when she answered.

_"Nicky?! Are…alright?"_ The line was cutting in and out and cracking, so he needed to be quick.

"I'm fine. Greg's really sick. How long is it gonna take to get us out?"

_"We're trying…get the door manufacturer…here, but he's…way in New York. Even when he does get here, it's…be at least eighteen hours before he…cut through it."_

"Son of a bitch. Greg doesn't have that much time."

_"Just hang on, Nick. We're gonna get you guys out."_

"Just hurry, okay?" When Catherine didn't answer, he grew worried. "Cath? Catherine!" His phone beeped and he pulled it from his ear just in time to see it powering down. "Great." Now that was useless. At least he knew the timetable even though eighteen hours was a long wait. Pressing his temples, Nick went to go sit back next to Greg and he closed his own eyes. He was exhausted; a little nap wouldn't hurt. He would wake up in fifteen minutes, check on Greg and then figure out how to keep the kid from getting any worse.

But he didn't wake up fifteen minutes later…

Or thirty…

Or fifty…

Nick jerked awake with a frantic gasp two hours later; he had slept too long. "Greg?" He turned to his right to see that the man was still sleeping…but he wasn't shivering anymore and his face was no longer shining with sweat. "G-Greg?" He grasped the thermometer and stuck it in Greg's ear.

"Oh no. No, no, no, no." _105.1_. "Greg!" He shook the man's shoulder roughly, trying to wake him up. "Greg, come on kiddo, wake up! Oh god. Please wake up!" Nick pulled the blonde's body into his lap and held Greg tight before realizing it wouldn't help. Breathing nervously, he started ripping the sleeves off his shirt and soaking the pieces with water. He then placed the wet fabric on Greg's forehead, neck, and on each of his wrists. Hopefully that would cool him down a little. Nick sat back on his heels and let out a gust of air. "Don't die on me, kid. Please."

~+CSI+~

Greg was barely breathing and Nick was becoming terrified. In four hours, his temperature went up to 105.6 and he still wasn't waking up. Every thirty minutes Greg seemed to get worse no matter how many times he re-soaked the fabric. His face was turning red like you'd get from a sunburn and his lips were extremely chapped. Twelve hours had passed and Nick was surprised the kid had made it this long. He was just about to pour more water on the fabric, when Greg's eyes snapped open and his chest heaved in panicked, shallow breaths.

"Shh," Nick said while placing his hand on the man's shoulder. "It's okay, Greg. It's-"

"T-The walls…they're closing in…c-can't breathe. S-So hot." Greg's body started trembling with heart-wracking sobs, though since he was so dehydrated, no tears were falling from his eyes. "I'm burning…the explosion…it hurts."

"Greg, you're okay," Nick soothed and he brought Greg into his arms. The kid was becoming delusional. "It's just the fever, Greggo."

The blonde shivered in Nick's hold, crying uncontrollably. Nick shed his own tears, hating that Greg was this miserable. He ran his fingers through the damp blonde hair, trying to calm him down. "You're gonna be okay, I promise. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you." They sat like that for ten minutes before Greg finally relaxed.

"Greg?" Nick looked down to see that the man wasn't sleeping, but it didn't look like he was lucid either. "Greg." He grabbed the second water bottle and tried to get his friend to drink it. "Come on man, just take a drink." When Greg didn't move, Nick sat him up and poured water in his mouth before plugging his nose so he could swallow.

"Nick?" Greg suddenly rasped.

"Greg," Nick smiled in relief. "Hey buddy."

"Where are we?"

"Still in the vault. The team should be getting us out soon."

"The v-vault?"

"Remember?"

Greg frowned and shook his head. He closed his eyes again and Nick pursed his lips. The fever was jumbling things around in Greg's brain.

"Do you want more water? You should probably try to take a few pills again. You're fever is still pretty high."

"Not…thirsty. S-Stomach…still hurts." His body heaved again and he puked up more watery bile. His body sagged when it ceased and was left breathless.

"Jesus Greg, why didn't you tell us you were sick? You could be home right now," Nick whispered, cupping the blonde's burning neck.

"D-Didn't…want to…dis…appoint you. Didn't want to…be…weak," Greg replied breathlessly.

"Greg, you're not weak. You're strong as hell for still coming to work when feeling like crap. And you could never disappoint me; I'll always be proud of what you've become."

Greg cleared his throat. "T-Thanks Nick."

"You're welcome, buddy. Don't worry, we're gonna get out of here in no time…Greg?" Why wasn't he answering? "Greg?" The man wasn't moving. "Greg." He put the thermometer back in Greg's ear and swore. _106.1_. His pulse was weak, but abnormally fast. If he didn't get Greg out soon, his brain was going to fry and he was done for.

**Five Hours Later**

Catherine and Warrick were inwardly jumping for joy when the door manufacturer had finally cut through the door and five movers pulled it open.

"Nick! Greg!" Catherine shouted. "Ni- oh my god."

"Get the medics!" Nick's voice cracked. "He's not…he just had a seizure and now he's not breathing! Hurry!"

Catherine's heart broke at the sight; the room was stuffy and hot, the kits were dumped of their contents, there was throw-up on the ground and Nick was holding an unmoving, sweat soaked and red faced Greg. Two EMT's rushed past her and started to assess Greg's condition.

"Fever is at 106.6, dilated pupils, we're gonna have to intubate, he's not breathing. Skin is dry and hot, no doubt severely dehydrated, start him on intravenous fluids and we need to get his blood pressure back up."

Warrick helped Nick stand to his feet and kept him steady as they watched Greg gently be moved onto a stretcher and strapped down. They maneuvered and tube down Greg's throat and attached an ambu-bag to the top. Once I.V's were inserted into the younger man's veins, the medics lifted the gurney into a stretcher and pushed it out of the vault. Nick pulled away from Warrick and quickly followed, not wanting to let Greg out of his sight. But when he reached the ambulance, the medics wouldn't let him follow.

"What…p-please, just let me go with him."

"We're sorry sir, there's not enough room. We're taking him to Sand Valley Medical if you want to meet us there." With that, the doors were slammed in Nick's face and the ambulance rushed off into the distance before disappearing around the corner. He watched in shock until a hand touched his shoulder.

"Come on, man," Warrick said. "I'll bring you. We should get you looked at, too."

"N-No…I'm fine. Let's just go." Nick swallowed dryly and briskly walked towards Warrick's Denali. He wasn't losing Greg…not today, not ever.

~+C+~

Nick sat nervously in the ER, biting the inside of his cheek. Warrick had forced him to get checked out and he had been a little dehydrated so the nurse put him on an I.V. drip. That had been two hours ago and he still had no news on Greg.

"Nicky, he's gonna be okay," Catherine said, coming in with a bottle of Gatorade in her hand, passing it to him. "Greg is strong."

The Texan rubbed the back of his head. "But it's been two hours already. What the hell is taking so long?"

"Nick, relax. He was in bad shape; it might take a while for them get him stable again."

Nick huffed and glanced at his watch again. This was ridiculous, he couldn't wait any longer. He started pulling out the I.V. and slid off the bed.

"Nick, where do you think you're going?"

"To find Greg. I'm tired of waiting."

"Nick-"

"Nick Stokes?"

They both turned to see a doctor with graying black hair emerge from behind the curtains.

"Yes?"

"Sorry it's been so long, I'm Dr. Smith, I'm your friend Gregory's attending. You're his emergency contact."

Nick frowned, wondering why Greg's mom wasn't the first one to be called, but he didn't care right now, because he wanted to know Greg's condition more than anything. "Is he okay?"

"He will be. His fever was dangerously high, being at 106.7 when he was brought in. We call it hyperpyrexia. We immediately put him in an ice bath to bring his temperature down to a more manageable level, but it's still high. We've started him on a strong cocktail of intravenous fluids and also have him on a ventilator to help him breathe. He's in a coma-"

Nick's heart sunk. "A coma?"

"Medically induced. It will help him recover faster; we'll wean him out in a few days once his fever is at a more manageable level."

"When can we see him?" Catherine said, resting a hand on Nick's shoulder.

"Well, you can see him through the window, but he's unable to have visitors due to his weakened immune system. Again, once he starts to recover we can lift the restriction. When he does wake up, he'll be very tired for a few days, so we're gonna keep him for observation for a while. I'll have a nurse come get you when Gregory is settled in his room."

"Thank you," the woman said and once the doctor left, Nick exhaled deeply. "You okay?"

Nick shook his head. "He's in a coma, Catherine, and on a vent."

"It's to help him. He's gonna be okay, you just need to believe that."

"I'm trying to believe that, I really am."

Catherine pursed her lips sadly. "You're both gonna get through this. I'm gonna go get you another juice, okay?"

Nick smiled forcefully and nodded. When she disappeared behind the curtains, Nick laid back in the bed and swallowed thickly. They were in a bank vault for only a day and now Greg was in a coma, needing a machine to breathe for him. If only he saw how sick the kid had been before they went to the crime scene, maybe Greg would be at home…safe.

"I'm sorry, man. Please be okay."

An hour later, Nick was discharged and they were able to go see Greg.

"Oh god," Nick whispered when they looked through the window. Greg looked so small…so broken. His face was still pretty chapped and red, but shining with aloe lotion. His lips were parted slightly where the breathing tube was sticking out and connected to a ventilator. Various wires protruded in and out of his body and his heart was beating slow but steady.

A single tear slipped from Nick's eye, his heart aching at the sight of his best friend hurting like this…and he couldn't even go sit with him yet. It was killing him. Wiping his face, he turned and left without a word. He needed air.

**28 Hours Later**

"Alright," Dr. Smith said. "One person at a time and only for ten minutes, because his fever is still too high. You will need to wash your hands up to your elbows before entering as well; his immune system is starting to get stronger, but we can't risk anything."

Nick nodded before he stepped into the sterilization room and scrubbed his hands red. He wasn't about to make his little brother sicker than he already was. The nurses pulled a gown around his clothes while Nick put on gloves.

"Ready?" She asked.

Nick exhaled. "Yeah."

The door slid open and the Texan stepped into the quiet room. "Oh Greg." He walked over and sat down, gently taking Greg's hand in his. "I'm sorry this happened, man." He stared at the breathing tube and shuddered. Greg's temperature was down to 102° so Nick knew the kid was slowly getting better, but he wanted him to be awake, joking around, being Greg. "Hey buddy, I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm proud of you. If anyone can pull through this, it's you. Don't give up now, alright. When you get better, I promise I'll be more supportive it's just…I'm not used to you being out in the field where it's…dangerous. I'm terrified that you're gonna get hurt and that I won't be there to protect you. You're like a brother to me, Greg, I can't lose you." He squeezed the blonde's hand and brushed back a few sweaty strands. Nick sat there silently for a few more minutes before he got up and left the room. It was gonna be a long couple of days; he had been awake for nearly two days straight and he was exhausted, but he wasn't going to leave the hospital until Greg woke up. No way in hell.

~+CSI+~

"N-Nick?"

The Texan's head shot up from his hands when he heard the weak, yet familiar voice. They had taken him out of the coma and removed the ventilator yesterday when his fever finally broke, lowering to a safe 98.8°. He started sweating again until his face regained its normal skin color, the redness fading away. The nurses replaced the sheets and upped the fluids, so now he was doing a lot better.

"Greg!" Nick grinned. The blonde was awake, barely, staring at him with dull blue eyes. "Thank God you're alright." He cupped the man's neck and squeezed it a little.

Greg smiled tiredly and swallowed. "Where am I?"

"The hospital. You've been here for a few days. Do you remember anything?"

"Kind of…some of its…hazy."

"Yeah…the fever was pretty bad. I'm just happy you're okay. You really scared me. I thought you…I thought I lost you."

Greg turned his palm upwards on the bed and Nick immediately held it. It was no longer cold and clammy, thank god.

"I'm okay now. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."

"You better not. I don't think my old heart can take it."

Greg rolled his eyes and chuckled. "How old are you, exactly?"

"Dude, I'm not telling you that," Nick snorted.

"It's okay…I can always look you up in the database."

"Stalker much?"

Greg grinned before yawning, letting his head roll to the side. He suddenly frowned. "Are you okay?"

Nick smirked. "I'm fine…though I do have one question. Why am I the first person on your emergency contacts…why not your mom?"

The smile faded from Greg's face and his eyes looked down.

Nick grew concerned. "Greg."

"I…I still haven't told my mom that I started working in the field."

Nick's eyes widened. "You haven't told her you're a CSI? Greg, what if you were hurt worse? We wouldn't know who to contact! Why haven't you told her?"

"My mom got stuck with only me when she really wanted a lot of kids…so she kept me close. Super overprotective; if I got a nosebleed, she'd rush me to the ER. She wouldn't let me play any sports. I'm afraid that…that if I tell her, she's going to freak out and do something dramatic…like force me to go back into the lab…or to quit."

"She wouldn't do that."

Greg scoffed. "You don't know my mom, Nick."

The Texan pressed his lips together. "Greg, just tell her. She's going to find out eventually. Who knows, maybe you can talk some sense into her…that you really love your job and that you're good at it. Plus you can tell her that you have a big brother protecting you."

The blonde grinned. "Yeah, once I tell her that, she'll be pestering you to make sure I'm okay twenty-four seven."

"I'll make a deal with her. Like call her every last day of the month to fill her in. You should call her too, she's your mom and probably misses you."

"Yeah…I know."

Nick squeezed Greg's arm. "Why don't you get some rest, you still look like crap."

"Gee thanks," the blonde said, closing his eyes.

Nick laughed, stroking back Greg's hair. "You're welcome little bro."

"Don't…touch…my hair…again," Greg replied sleepily.

Nick smirked while standing up. _Typical Greg._ "Go to sleep man. I'm gonna go tell the others you're okay. And hey."

Greg peeled his eyes back open and waited for Nick to continue.

"You're gonna be an awesome CSI, Greggo, don't forget that."

Greg smiled and let his eyes shut. He could finally believe that now.

**FIN**

**Next prompt for: ****_Leggomygreggo_**

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	22. Cold as Ice

**Cold as Ice**

_**Prompt for: leggomygreggo2: Greg, Morgan and Nick are at a scene where the killer comes back and attacks Greg; he tries to fight back but then Morgan walks in at the wrong time, Greg saves her and is injured. **_**Enjoy! **

"I don't think I've seen this much snow since I went to Norway when I was five," Greg said, pulling his thin jacket tighter around his body. He probably should've worn a thicker one but he wasn't counting on going up to the mountains where people rented cabins and skied.

"The only time I've seen snow is on the Christmas specials that air on TV," Morgan chuckled. "Didn't get much cold weather in LA."

"Same in Texas," Nick added, wrapping his scarf around his neck. "Never thought I'd miss hot weather."

Greg laughed. "Well, look on the bright side. After we finish here, I can teach you how to build snowmen and make snow angels."

Nick rolled his eyes. "I think being knee deep in this crap is enough for me."

Morgan smiled. "I'm with Nick. It's cold enough as it is."

"You guys don't know what you're missing."

When they reached the scene, they found the victim half buried in red snow, a slit in his throat, nearly severing his neck.

"Damn," Nick whistled. "Someone really wanted this guy dead."

"And to suffer," Greg added.

"His name is Ralph North. His friends," Brass said, pointing to three guys standing over next to an officer. "Found him this morning."

"It looks like he was dragged out here," Greg said, taking a picture of the body. "There's a trail coming from the cabin…I'm gonna go check it out."

"Okay," Nick said. "Morgan, you continue with the pictures, I'm gonna go talk to the witnesses."

Greg stepped into the eerily silent cabin and looked around, following the blood trail to the back room. _Ralph must've been killed here and dragged outside._ He snapped another picture and jumped when he heard a loud creak behind him. He spun around, putting his hand on his gun, but there was nothing behind him. He glanced out the window to see both Morgan and Nick were still outside. _Huh._ Maybe it was just the wind. He went back to investigating, hoping to find the murder weapon. He slowly walked down the hallway and into a storage room where a bunch of tools were hung up on the wall…and there was something missing.

"Hmm." The dust shape the tool had made…it looked like an ax. That would explain why Ralph's head was nearly chopped off. He suddenly heard another creak behind him and he gasped when a gruff voice spoke right after.

"You should've stayed outside."

Before Greg could turn around, something metal wacked him over the head and knocked him out cold. When he came to, he was freezing cold, ice nipping at his skin, but it was nothing compared to the pain exploding behind his eyes. Whoever hit him got him good. Peeling open his lids, he was met with blurry white and green and had the sensation of being dragged and his collar digging into his neck. Focusing his vision, he saw the cabin getting further away. _What the hell was going on?_

"Ugh," he moaned. "W-What…what are you doing?"

"I'm getting rid of the evidence. I can't have you blabbing to your friends that you came across the murder weapon _and_ the killer."

Greg struggled, but his head was hurting too much. "Why'd you stay…behind then?"

"Because I was coming back for the others…but the ranger got up here too quick and I had to hide. And then you came along and I couldn't let you find me…so now I'm gonna get rid of you."

The blonde was suddenly dropped and he realized where he was. This guy was gonna throw him off the bridge and into the water…to die. He couldn't let that happen. He got up and searched for his gun, but his holster was empty.

"Looking for this?"

Greg glanced up, his vision doubling and having difficulties focusing more so, standing. But he could see, in the killer's hand, his gun. _Dammit_. Before he could leap for it, the weapon was thrown over the bridge and onto the frozen pond below. Greg saw something glint in the man's belt and realized it was a knife…now if he could just get to it.

~+CSI+~

Morgan thought it was weird that she heard nothing from Greg in fifteen minutes. Surely he had something to report by now. She glanced over at Nick who was still talking to the witnesses before deciding to go find Greg. She stepped into the cabin and walked around, hoping that the man wasn't about to jump out and scare her to death.

"Greg?"

Silence.

"Greg, are you in here?" She cautiously searched the rooms, but there was no sign of the blonde. "Greg, if you're about to scare me, I'm going to shoot you."

But there was no response. She grew worried; something had to be wrong. She pulled out her gun and walked down the hallway. When she reached the last room, her gut twisted in fear. Greg's flashlight and camera were on the ground, next to a small puddle of blood. Before she had time to call out to Nick, she heard yelling coming from out back. Without thinking twice, she ran out the back. She saw footprints, followed by drag marks and it scared her to think that Greg wasn't walking. When she finally reached the end, Morgan froze, seeing Greg struggling to get the upper hand with another guy. Blood was dripping down the blonde's face and she had a feeling the man Greg was fighting with was the killer.

"Greg!"

The two turned to her as she pulled out her gun, pointing it at the killer. "Put your hands up!"

"In your dreams, blondie," the man growled, throwing Greg roughly to the ground and pulling out his knife and walking towards Morgan. Greg gasped; this guy was going to hurt Morgan…the woman he fell so hard for…the woman who he swore to himself he was going to protect.

"Leave her alone!" He growled, scrambling to his feet. He was about to tackle the guy to the ground, but just as he was about to jump, the man turned around unexpectedly. His knife was still raised and before Greg could stop, the blade stabbed him in the side. His breath caught in his throat, the pain shaking him to the bone. The man's mouth spread into a grin and he pulled the knife out of Greg's body before he turned back to Morgan.

"Greg…are you okay?" She said, keeping her gun high. But when she saw blood on the knife, she knew he was far from okay. "Put the knife down or I will shoot!"

"I'd like to see you try," he chuckled.

Without flinching, Morgan pulled the trigger and shot the man in the leg. He howled in pain before glaring at her. "You bitch! You're gonna pay for that!" He stepped forward, but all of a sudden, Greg jumped onto his back.

"Stay…away…from…her!" He grunted, pushing past the immense pain in his side.

"You're really starting to piss me off, kid." Before he could do anything, the man slipped on some ice and lost his balance. He staggered backwards and both he and Greg crashed into the rail, breaking the wood and falling down into the pond.

"No! Greg!" Morgan cried, rushing forward. She looked over, carefully, and saw that they had fallen through the ice…and no one was resurfacing. "Oh god. Oh no. Nick! Help!" She really hoped the Texan had heard her or at least the gunshot. She couldn't get Greg alone and she couldn't let him die.

The second they hit the ice, Greg felt his shoulder pop, but he barely had time to register the pain before the ice cracked and gave away beneath them. The water was freezing and he could barely take in a breath. And what made things worse was that his holster was caught on the killer's belt and the man must've hit his head because now he was unconscious and dragging him down. Oxygen was quickly leaving his lungs and he couldn't get loose…he was going to die. _At least you kept Morgan safe._ He guessed that's all that mattered. His eyes fluttered close and he felt like he was just going to sleep. He no longer felt cold and he knew that was probably not a good thing. He heard a muffled splash beside him, but he let darkness take him before he could feel someone grabbing him around his waist and dragging him to the surface.

When Nick heard the gunshot, his heart stopped beating for a second. He dropped everything and pulled out his gun, running towards the source, Brass and another officer following him around the cabin towards the back.

_"Nick! Help!"_

Morgan's cries made him panic even more and quicken his pace. Morgan was running off a broken bridge and going down to the pond and Greg was nowhere to be seen. And if Morgan was freaking out like that, Greg had to be the one in trouble.

"Morgan," he breathed. "What happened?"

"Greg…he and the killer were fighting…and they crashed into the rail. They fell into the pond and…and they're…he's not coming back up!"

Without saying another word, Nick shed his jacket and gun before diving into the water. He didn't care how cold it was, he wasn't letting Greg die today. Morgan stood on the shore, shivering from the cold, adrenaline and fear. It seemed like an eternity before Nick resurfaced with Greg and, unfortunately, the killer in his arms, both unconscious. Brass and the other cop ran forward to help with getting them all out. Nick laid Greg down and Morgan fell to her knees by them.

"Greg?" She cupped his frozen cheek and sniffed. "Greg, please wake up." He was unnaturally pale, almost gray even, his lips were disturbingly blue as were his fingers and eyelids. His shoulder also looked funny and Nick knew it was most likely dislocated. There was blood seeping from his head and from his side, causing Nick to frown and unzip his jacket.

"Oh no…he's been stabbed. Call an ambulance! Greg!"

"He's not breathing, Nick," Morgan cried.

They heard choking and gagging, but it was coming from the killer which Brass was handcuffing, thankfully.

"Greg!" He positioned his hands over the blonde's chest and began CPR. He hated the feeling of Greg's ribs cracking or the coldness of his lips. It terrified him. He was moving onto his second round of compressions when Greg's body finally jerked abruptly, spitting up water and puke. Nick and Morgan laughed in relief before the Texan helped Greg sit up, patting his back.

"Just get it all out, buddy. You're okay, you're gonna be okay. I got you. Just Breathe."

The blonde choked and coughed for five minutes, shivering violently and uncontrollably. Nick grabbed the jacket he discarded and draped it around the younger man's shoulders.

"Keep him warm," he said to Morgan who immediately wrapped her arms around Greg. "I'm gonna get the medics and bring them here."

Morgan nodded and tightened her grip around Greg, being careful of his dislocated shoulder. "God, you scared the shit out of me Greg."

The man chuckled weakly. "S-Sorry. T-Trying t-to pro-protect you. C-Couldn't l-let you get…h-hurt."

Morgan's heart swelled at this but was starting to get worried. Greg's trembling was getting worse and now that the ice water wasn't there to stop it, the bleeding was coming out faster. "Greg, can you walk? We need to get you out of the cold."

"C-Can…t-try," Greg slurred, suddenly feeling extremely tired.

"Alright, just hold onto me and we'll take it slow."

Greg nodded and gripped Morgan tightly with one arm as she helped him stand. They took one step and Greg's knees instantly folded underneath him, bringing the two CSI's down back into the snow. Morgan looked at Greg and gasped; the blood spot on his side was getting bigger…he was losing too much blood.

"Dammit. Nick, hurry up!"

Greg leaned heavier into Morgan, breaths coming out in puffs of air. Morgan pursed her lips before shedding her own jacket and adding it to Nick's. She held him tight, knowing they weren't going anywhere until the Texan came back with the medics. When she glanced down at Greg again, his eyes were closed, however he was still breathing. He had succumbed to the cold and pain and passed out. "Don't leave me, Greg," she whispered right before seeing Nick coming down with help. "Please don't leave me."

~+CSI+~

Morgan sat in the waiting room, her legs bouncing nervously. The entire ride to the hospital, Greg hadn't regained consciousness and it worried her. She had pleaded to go with him in the vehicle, scared to let him out of her sight and thankfully they let her on. The medics removed Greg's soaking wet clothes before bandaging his stab wound, resetting his shoulder and then wrapping him tightly in a few wool blankets, leaving one arm out to insert an I.V. into the crook of his elbow. They placed an oxygen mask on his face and then left him alone with not much else they could do.

_"Is he going to be okay?"_ She had asked in a trembling voice. Even in unconsciousness, Greg was shivering

_"It looks like the knife penetrated the spleen, that's why he bled so much, however it could've been worse. Falling in that water probably saved his life. He does have a moderate case of hypothermia, but that's easily manageable. He'll be just fine."_

"Are you the one that came in with Gregory Sanders?" A voice said next to her.

Morgan gasped and looked up to see a doctor standing by her. She nodded jerkily and took a deep breath. "Y-Yes. How is he?"

"Very lucky. The knife hit the spleen and he lost quite a bit of blood, but we've transfused him what he lost and we didn't have to remove it. The cold water actually helped him, it slowing down the bleeding. He does have a slight case of hypothermia, but we're bringing up his temperature with intravenous fluids. We also removed some water from his lungs, but his breathing will sound scratchy for a while. The paramedics also reset his dislocated shoulder, but he'll have to wear a sling for a while All in all, he'll make a full recovery in the next week or so. I'd like to keep him here for a few days for observation, but then he can go home."

Morgan sighed in relief. Greg was going to be okay. Once she called Nick, he said he was going to finish up with the scene and then head over, knowing Morgan would take care of Greg. Now she was sitting by Greg's side, watching him breathe in and out unevenly; he was starting to look a little better, his face thankfully regaining some color. Morgan smiled sadly, enveloping his cold hand in hers and then laid her head down next to his shoulder. She could finally relax now.

**Eight Hours Later**

The doctor had let more than one person into Greg's room, so now Russell, Sara, and Nick were there; Nick was sitting on the opposite side of the blonde's bed, Russell was parked in a chair by the door and Sara was getting coffee for them all.

"Hmmm."

Nick sat forward quickly when he heard a small moan slip from Greg's mouth. "Greg?"

Morgan jerked awake when she felt pressure in her hand. "Is he waking up?"

Nick grinned. "I think so. Greg, can you hear me?"

"N-Nick?" Greg suddenly rasped.

The Texan chuckled and grabbed Greg's hand, squeezing it tightly. "Right here, man."

Russell walked over to stand at the end of the bed and they all waited for Greg's eyes to open. And when they did, they were all so relieved.

His eyes scanned the area cautiously before he spoke. "S-Safe?"

"Yeah man," Nick smirked. "That bastard is going away for a long time."

Greg smiled tiredly. "Good. Everyone…okay?"

Russell chuckled. "You're the one who decided to take the polar plunge. You scared us a little."

"A lot," Morgan added, tightening her grip on Greg's hand. "We're just glad you're okay. What you did for me…it was stupid but, thank you."

Greg sighed, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. "I'd do anything to protect you."

Nick and Russell looked at each other in amusement. "Alright." Nick stood up and cupped Greg's neck briefly. "Let's leave these two lovebirds alone."

Greg glared at the Texan until the two left the room, chuckling. Both blonde's rolled their eyes and smiled.

"Are you feeling okay? You were underwater for a long time…Nick had to give you CPR."

Greg frowned. "He did? All I remember was going over the bridge and not being able to breathe. I really thought that was it for me."

Morgan pursed her lips. "You can't escape me that easily."

"Is that so?" Greg smirked.

Morgan chuckled. "You know this whole thing…it got me thinking. I really care about you Greg…when I saw that you were missing I was scared, when I saw the blood I was scared, when you fell and went underneath the ice, I was scared…but when you weren't breathing," she took a deep breath. "When you were dead, I was terrified. I thought I lost you and like I said, it got me thinking. I like you Greg, a lot, and I don't want to waste any more time. I want to go out with you…I mean if you want to."

Greg's eyes were wide and his jaw slack. "R-Really?"

Morgan nodded and Greg's mouth spread into a wide grin. "I've wanted to go out with you since the day I met you. I could never work up the courage to ask you out, afraid that you wouldn't feel the same way."

"Trust me," she said. "I do." And without warning, she kissed him on the cheek. "There's more where that came from."

Greg laughed, touching the place where she kissed him. "I hope so."

"Now how are we gonna break this to the others?" Morgan grinned, rested her head by his shoulder and holding his now warm hand in both of hers.

Greg scoffed. "I think they already know."

Morgan glanced at Greg and then realizing he was staring out the window…at Nick, Russell and Sara who were grinning broadly at them. Nick gave them a thumbs up and Greg shook his head incredulously.

"They're unbelievable," Morgan laughed.

"That's family for you," Greg smirked. "You can't get rid of them. But we couldn't live without them."

**A/N: Not sure if they even have snow or ski places in Nevada, but if they don't then we can just pretend they do for this story :P**

**FIN**

**Next Prompt for: ****_Hadley_**

_**Kalisberg**_

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_**Mandy**_

**Meggysmeg**

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**_Guest (4)_**

**_Marymel_**

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**_Unicorn_**

**_Guest (5)_**

**_Meanxruki _**

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**_Guest (6)_**

_**Katie Shimkus**_

_**Guest (7)**_

_**Zarah**_

_**ShortGiant**_

_**Fanatic Reader**_

_**Katie McGee**_

_**Maryam**_

_**Thewhatzupwriter26**_

_**Marymel**_


	23. Run Away

**Run Away**

_**Prompt for: Hadley: You should do one about Greg running away and disappeared after the team gets into a fight.**_

He was cold and scared and wet and did he mention he was cold? He didn't think it was supposed to rain tonight, but then again, he didn't think the team would get into a huge argument about the case they had been on. He also didn't think that Warrick, more so _Nick_, would gang up on him and start yelling in his face. He was only trying to help; that's all he ever did and it ended up with him getting emotionally hurt.

**One Hour Earlier**

Greg watched quietly as the whole team started arguing with each other. They had been on this one case for at least a week and half and they were getting nowhere. There was a serial killer on the loose, torturing four or more household families before kidnapping the youngest. And usually the youngest was below ten years old. It had everyone on edge, stressed, and pissed off. Catherine, Nick, and Warrick were going at it, Grissom and Sara were shouting at each other and he just stood there, hating it all. Mostly, because he didn't like people yelling anymore; ever since the beating happened a month ago, he had been annoyingly sensitive to that type of stuff. He hadn't told anyone that or the fact that he had nightmares and sometimes was paranoid when he was home alone. He had stayed at Nick's a lot after that, but now he didn't want to be a liability so he just sucked it up and stayed at his. He had to fix this, he was the only one being sane at this point and he hated when his family fought. He tried to calm them down by suggesting they all separate and go home for a little to relax to get their heads cleared up, but that just made them turn on him…particularly Nick and Warrick.

"Relax?" Nick scoffed humorlessly. "How the hell can we relax at a time like this? There's a bastard out there who's killing kids! Do you even care?"

Greg frowned, feeling hurt that Nick would accuse him of something like that. "Nick, of course I care, I was just saying-"

"No one cares what you were saying," Warrick sneered.

"You guys, stop," Catherine tried to intervene, but it didn't help.

Nick and Warrick went over to Greg and the blonde backed up, feeling a little claustrophobic. He didn't like being surrounded either.

Warrick continued. "We don't need you here, Greg. You're not useful out in the field. Maybe you should just go back in the lab where you belong."

"You never care about anyone but yourself," Nick snapped. "What are you even contributing to this case? Nothing! You're weak; you can't even do a solo at a gas station without screwing up!"

"Nick! Warrick, back off!" Catherine shouted and the Texan stopped. He realized he was towering over Greg who was shaking visibly. Still fuming to even care, Nick stormed out the door. Warrick followed shortly after and Greg was nearly frozen to the spot.

"Greg, are you okay?" Catherine said softly, walking over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. However he immediately shrugged it off, forcing the tears in his eyes not to fall. During Nick's rant, his mind flashed back to that night in the alley…all those people dressed in black and pig masks surrounding him. Beating him, laughing and shouting at him. It was terrifying.

"Y-Yeah…I'm fine."

"You sure?"

He nodded and forced a smile. "Mmhmm."

Catherine pursed her lips sadly, knowing he was lying.

"I'm gonna…I'm gonna head home for a bit."

"Greg-"

He started to back out. "Just call me if you find anything."

Before she could say another word, Greg quickly disappeared down the hall towards the parking lot. By the time he reached his car, he was crying and hyperventilating. With trembling hands, he unlocked his door and slid into his car. He drove home, trying to calm himself down; Pig and the others were in jail for good. There was no way they were getting out. Right? Once he got into his apartment, he quickly locked the door before taking a deep breath and sinking to the floor. He wiped the tears from his face but all he could think about was Nick shouting at him. Was it Nick or Pig? He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut; it was Nick. _Pig's in jail, Pig's in jail, Pig's in jail._ He had to believe that. He exhaled shakily, replaying the harsh words that Nick had spat at him.

"_You never care about anyone but yourself. What are you even contributing to this case? Nothing! You're weak; you can't even do a solo at a gas station without screwing up!"_

It was a knife through his heart; Nick really told him how he felt about the beating. He was a screw-up. Greg wanted to believe that the Texan didn't mean it, but he kept analyzing the words. He _was_ weak. Maybe Warrick was right, he should go back where he belonged…or maybe he should just quit and get rid of their problems once and for all. They were better off without him anyways, that much was true. He choked a sob, bringing his knees up to his chest and burying his face in his arms. All of a sudden, there was loud knocking on his door, causing him to jump away. The banging stopped and Greg thought that maybe someone had knocked on the wrong door…until it started up again.

"Open up, CSI! It's time to play again!"

Greg's heart dropped. "No."

"We weren't done with you, kid! Open up before we kick this door down!"

"Go away! I have a gun!"

"You're weak kid, you won't kill another human being. Then again, maybe you will since you already murdered DJ."

Greg shivering, tears making more of an appearance. "T-That wasn't my fault!"

"It was and you know it. Now why don't you open up this door so you can get what you deserve? Murderer! Murderer!"

Curled up in a ball on the floor, covering his ears to try and block out the noise. But the voices swirled in his head. _Murderer, weak, screw-up, you never care about anyone but yourself, we don't need you here, Greg. Just leave. Leave._ He had to get out of here. They were gonna kill him if they got through that door.

"You got ten seconds!"

Breathing heavily, in five seconds he quietly exited the apartment out the fire escape, climbed down the ladder and ran away. It was already starting to get dark and that meant it was going to get cold, but he didn't care. Little did he know that no one had been at his door. No one was knocking loudly, no one had been taunting him. He had been imagining things. But he hadn't known that.

~+CSI+~

**Present**

Nick pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, feeling immensely guilty for the things he said to Greg. It had been in the heat of the moment and he opened his stupid mouth without thinking twice about them. Especially bringing up the beating, that had been real low.

"Fuck." He really hoped he didn't just screw up his relationship with the kid. Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself up from the bench in the locker room and went to go see if the blonde was still hanging around. However, he wasn't surprised when he couldn't find him.

"Hey Cath?" He went into her office.

She barely glanced up and he wondered if she was still angry about the fight or angry that he yelled at Greg like that. "What Nick?"

"Do you know where Greg is?"

"Why so you can put him down some more?" She replied coldly.

He winced. "Okay, I deserved that, but I want to apologize to him. I didn't mean anything I had said and I hate myself for even thinking about them."

Catherine exhaled and looked up. "I know you didn't mean it…but Greg might not know that."

"I know, that's why I need to find him."

"He went home."

"Thank you." He turned and left, exiting the building and getting in his car. He stopped by the store and grabbed a six-pack of beer before heading to Greg's apartment. Just as he got inside, it started to downpour.

"Greg!" He said, knocking calmly on the door. "You in there, bud?" He saw the man's car so he had to be. "Greg, I want to apologize for what I said back at the lab. I didn't mean any of it." Silence. "Greggo, come on, please open the door." He shook the handle, but it was locked.

"Greg!" What if something was wrong? What if Greg did something to himself? The kid had already been slightly depressed and sensitive after the beatings and things, like yelling and crowds and especially bringing up the incident, made it worse. Biting the inside his cheek, Nick pulled out his keys and found the spare one for Greg's. When he stepped inside, it was so quiet he could probably hear a pin drop.

"Greg?" He scanned the room for the kid or for a threat, but he found neither…instead he found Greg's car keys, gun, cell phone and badge. So he had come back into the apartment, but he was gone…and that's when he noticed the window was open, rain spilling into the apartment. _That's weird._ He walked forward, placing the beer on the table and realized, Greg might've left out the fire escape. Or was _forced _out. But by what…or who? His heart beat frantically. What if something bad happened? He searched the area again, hoping the kid was around somewhere.

"Greg! Come on man answer me!" But he knew there was gonna be no answer. "Oh god." _What have I done?_

~+C+~

Greg shook his drenched hair out of his eyes, trying to figure out which way to go. He had been walking for a while, he didn't exactly know how long, but he knew it was getting late, that his feet were aching and he was lost. This was a stupid idea. He stopped in the middle of the empty street and groaned.

"What are you doing out here all alone pretty boy," a gruff voice said out of nowhere.

Greg flinched and spun around to see a hooded man standing behind him. He gasped, backing away slightly.

"Don't move," the man growled, pulling out a knife.

"P-Please…please don't hurt me," he said.

"Then give me all your money."

"I don't…I don't have anything."

"You're lying!"

"I'm not!"

The man shouted and suddenly leapt at Greg, punching him in the face and knocking him to the ground. Greg whimpered as the mugger repeatedly kicked him, the pain in his body increasing with each blow. He curled in on himself when the man started picking his pockets.

"I knew you had something, kid," he chuckled after pulling Greg's wallet out of his pocket before running away. Greg lay in the street, getting pelted by rain, his body shaking violently. Everything hurt. After a few minutes, he decided to pull himself before someone else saw him as an opportunity. Greg began walking- though it was more of limping- down the street again, finally starting to reach a more populated area of the city. When he rounded the corner, it felt like a light was beaming down from heaven and illuminating a payphone across the street. He let out a strangled laugh and was so happy to find it that he didn't look both ways before he crossed the street. He started to run towards the phone, but didn't see the car speeding towards him until the headlights were blinding his eyes and the bumper of the car touched his legs. He was thrown of his feet, falling against the hood of the car as it screeched to a jolting stop. Greg rolled off the car and collapsed to the ground in searing pain.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry, I swear I didn't see you!"

Greg moaned, shakily lifting himself up from the ground, his knees and hands pulsing from skinning them.

"Are you okay, sir? Oh god, you're bleeding a lot."

His head was spinning, his ribs burned as did his stomach, and his leg felt funny. When he looked down, there was a huge gash in his left thigh.

"We need to get you to the hospital," the woman said, her figure blurry.

"N-No," he mumbled, cradling his head. "I'm fine, I'm okay."

"But you're bleeding!"

"I'm fine, don't worry. I'm fine." He felt like he was gonna puke, but he didn't want to go to the hospital. He couldn't.

"Are you sure?" The woman asked nervously.

"Yeah," he replied in a strained voice and forcing a smile. With that, he painfully made his way out of the street, completely forgetting why he had been crossing it in the first place. He kept on walking, maybe he was walking in circles, but his head hurt too much for him to focus. After ten minutes, he couldn't take another step and collapsed on the ground. The cold wet grass felt good on his burning cheek and without another thought, Greg slipped into the darkness.

~+C+~

**Two Hours Later**

Nick anxiously paced the hallway outside Greg's apartment, waiting for answers while the rest of the team processed the area. Something had happened to Greg; he was afraid that that the kid was being held against his will or maybe all that yelling had gotten to him and he hurt himself. He didn't think Greg would do something like that…he didn't think the kid would be that dark, but then again, a lot has changed in the past month and Greg wasn't the same person he had known before the attack.

"Anything?" He asked Catherine who emerged from the room.

"There's no sign of a struggle and there are no suspicious fingerprints near the window or doors."

"Dammit," Nick ran a hand through his hair. "This is my fault."

"It's all our faults," Warrick said, joining the group. "We were all pissed and exhausted and Greg had the right idea for us all to go home and relax for a while, but we bit his head off. He always puts everyone else before him."

"What if he's hurt? What if he hurts himself?" Nick said worriedly.

"He's gonna be okay," Catherine assured. "We're gonna find him. I promise. He couldn't have gone far."

Nick pursed his lips, feeling skeptical. Suddenly, Sara came out to the hallway, phone in her hand and face drained of color.

"What?" Nick said, instantly picking up on her fear. "What's wrong?"

"I've been calling around, seeing if anyone has seen Greg or if he was admitted into a hospital."

"And?"

"Someone matching his description was brought to Sand Valley Medical a few hours ago. He was hit by a car. His heart stopped in the ambulance and they couldn't…they couldn't get him back."

Nick's heart nearly stopped. "W-What? What are you talking about? He's not…"

Tears formed in Sara's eyes. "I'm sorry, Nick."

"Oh god," he breathed, turning away from them. "It can't be him. Maybe it's not him." He refused to believe Greg was gone forever.

"It's possible. There wasn't any I.D on him."

"Okay," Nick exhaled, turning back towards them, his eyes red. "Let's go then."

When they got to the hospital's morgue, they stood over the sheet covered body, scared to death at who they were going to see. Nick was breathing shakily, tears welling in his eyes. Everyone was terrified and sick to their stomachs about the possibility that they could be standing over Greg's battered corpse.

"Are you ready?" The M.E. said.

"Yeah," Catherine replied, placing a hand on Nick's arm.

The doctor nodded and pulled back the sheet. They gasped, shocked yet relieved.

"It's not Greg," Sara said.

"Thank god," Warrick sighed.

"Nick, it's a good thing," Catherine smiled when the Texan didn't say anything.

"Yeah, but…we still don't know where he is."

"We'll find him, Nicky. Don't worry."

They left the morgue and went upstairs. As they were walking towards the lobby, they walked past the emergency room and something caught Nick's eye. Blonde hair. Now anyone could have blonde messy hair like Greg, but his gut was telling him something. Telling him it was Greg.

"Wait."

"Why?" Warrick asked when Nick stopped abruptly.

"I think…" it was hard to see past the nurses and doctors surrounding the bed, but he had a feeling…it had to be Greg. _Please let it be him._ When a nurse moved out of the way, Nick inhaled sharply. "Greg." The kid looked horrible. His entire body was covered in cuts and bruises, blood dripping down his face and his eyes closed. His lips were slightly blue and the monitors they had him hooked up to were beeping wildly.

"What's going on?!" Nick shouted. "What happened to him?"  
"Excuse me," a woman by the name of Lily Reid, came up to them and they assumed it was Greg's doctor. "Who are you?"

"We've been looking for him. His name is Greg Sanders. We're all CSI."

"Oh, well in that case, he was hit by a car earlier. It was dark and raining and he came out of nowhere. The woman who called it in said Greg insisted he was fine and walked off. An hour later, someone called because their dog found a body in their yard. At first they thought he was dead, but when the paramedics got there, they found a pulse. He's very lucky to be alive. If he hadn't been found when he was, he would've most likely died from internal bleeding."

"What are his injuries other than that?" Catherine questioned.

"Concussion, small bleed in his brain causing it to swell slightly, five broken ribs, broken leg, a punctured spleen which we'll have to take him into surgery to remove, high fever from infection and a lot of bruises. Like I said, he's lucky; he's going to be fine. I'd like to keep him here for at least a week to make sure there are no surprise bleeds, but after things start to improve, he'll be able to go home."

Nick watched as an unconscious Greg was wheeled out of the ER and down the hall towards the operation room. A huge weight lifted from his chest; Greg was gonna be okay…he still wanted to know what the hell happened, though. Greg had gone missing and then suddenly ended up in the hospital. Where had he gone?

~+CSI+~

Greg woke up four hours later after his surgery, groggy and his head feeling like it was being squished between rocks. His body felt extremely hot yet he knew he was shivering. Groaning slightly, he forced his eyelids open and he was met with darkness. There was a dim light to his right, but he couldn't process what it was coming from. He couldn't even remember what happened; he had been running from something, but what? He squeezed his eyes shut and a brief flash of Pig's face appeared. He gasped, his eyes flying open, seeing a dark shape standing by his bed. He opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a squeak.

"Pathetic," the shape growled. "You should've let yourself die, blondie."

He frowned, his heart beating wildly against his chest. And when the shape emerged, he became terrified. _Pig._

"P-Please," he rasped. "Don't…don't hurt me."

"You deserve to be hurt. You're weak and you're a murderer." A knife appeared out of thin air and Greg whimpered, trying to move away even though it felt like he was strapped down to the bed. Pig moved closer, pressing the knife against his chest.

"I'm gonna kill you nice and slow."

"N-No…please!" He sobbed. "Stop!"

"Greg. Greg stop!" Nick shouted. He had been sitting next to Greg when the kid woke up. At first he seemed confused and when he said his name, the blonde gasped, looking like he had been slapped in the face. And when he started pleading, Nick became the one who was confused. He stood up to comfort the man, but Greg tried to shy away from him; the second he touched Greg's chest, he flinched like he had been burned and began to thrash around and yell. He had to be seeing things, no doubt the fever and concussion causing it.

"Greg! It's okay, bud, it's me, Nick!" But it didn't seem to do anything.

A nurse rushed in, pushing him out of the way, obviously noticing that his heart rate had been escalating.

"What's wrong with him?"

"The fever is most likely causing hallucinations. We're gonna sedate him so he doesn't pull his stitches."

Nick watched as the nurse inserted a syringe into Greg's I.V. and moments later, the blonde's thrashing ceased and his body relaxed. Nick wiped a hand down his face and sighed. The poor kid didn't deserve this crap. None of this never would've happened had they just listened to him instead of chewing him out. "I'm sorry, buddy," Nick whispered once the nurse left. He grabbed the blonde's clammy hand and squeezed it gently. "I'm so sorry."

**Three Hours Later**

A male nurse, by the name of Peter Goode, walked down the hall after finding out where Greg's room was. The kid had been lucky to live and he had been stupid enough to call the paramedics instead of just burying it like he had done with his victims. Yes, he wasn't really a nurse, but the infamous mystery serial killer that had been torturing families and kidnapping their kids. And the man who had inconveniently collapsed in his yard might've seen something. He might not have, but he wasn't going to take that chance. He had to get rid of the witness. Rounding the corner, Peter read the room numbers before reaching the one he wanted. He smiled in satisfaction when he noticed no one was in the room and the blonde was sleeping, most likely drugged. Making sure there was no suspicious eyes in the hall, he quietly slipped into the room. Grabbing a spare pillow from the recliner, he held in in his hands and hovered it over Greg's face. Just before he could bring it down, the door opened and Nick came into the room. Peter quickly made it look like he was giving him another pillow and making sure he was comfortable.

"He okay?" Nick asked, sipping from his fourth cup of coffee. The others were grabbing food and would be back soon.

"Yeah, his breathing just sounded a bit labored so I'm sitting him up," Peter lied.

"Oh, okay."

"I'm gonna do a few tests to make sure he's not falling into a coma."

"A coma?"

"He'll be fine, it's just a precaution. If you want to go grab something to eat, it might take a while."

Nick hesitated for a moment before nodding and leaving the room once more. Peter swore when the Texan disappeared; he wasn't going to be able to kill the kid here. There were too many distractions, too many possible witnesses. And then an idea came to his head. He unlocked the bed's wheels and unhooked Greg from all the wires before pushing him out of the room.

"Where are you taking him?" Nick piped up and Peter froze briefly, not realizing the man had been waiting in the hallway.

"Turns out there could be some swelling. I'm gonna meet his doctor and take him for an MRI."

Nick bit the inside of his cheek and then nodded. "Okay. How long will that take?"

"About half an hour. He'll be back soon."

"Alright, thanks."

"No problem, sir." He forced a smile and then turned around, continuing to move down the hallway, his smile disappearing. Once he rounded the corner, he moved faster, knowing it would be only a matter of time before those CSI's realized what was going on. When he finally reached the emergency exit, he lifted Greg's limp body from the bed, threw him over his shoulder and went outside to where he had parked his car. Peter threw the blonde into the trunk carelessly before shedding the scrubs, getting into his car and driving away.

Nick paced outside Greg's _still_ empty room, continuously glancing down at his watch. An hour had already passed and Greg still wasn't back from his MRI. Something was up, he could feel it in his gut. Chewing on his lip, he went up to the nurse's station, unable to wait any longer.

"Um, excuse me?"

"Yes?" The blonde nurse smiled.

"I was just wondering when Greg Sanders would be back from his MRI."

The woman typed on the computer and frowned. "He wasn't scheduled for any. Are you sure he's not in his room?"

Nick's blood ran cold. He knew it. He knew that nurse was acting weird. When he had gone into the room after getting a coffee, it almost looked like the guy was about to smother Greg with that pillow. And then he left the vulnerable kid alone. "Oh no." He bolted down the hallway where he saw Greg and the nurse disappear. He ran as fast as he could before reaching the exit, finding the hospital void of a body, the back door slightly open and scrubs discarded on the ground. "Oh god." Greg had actually been kidnapped. He had really fucked up.

~+CSI+~

In twenty minutes, the hospital was swarming with police officers. Nick and the team knew it was a longshot that Greg's kidnapper stayed in the building, but there was always a chance.

"I'm such an idiot," Nick said, sitting in a chair outside Greg's vacant room, his leg bouncing wildly.

"It's not your fault man," Warrick said.

"Yeah, actually it is. I should've known something was off about that guy. If we hadn't _yelled_ at him we wouldn't even be here right now."

"I know…we were all a bunch of assholes."

"What if we don't find him?" Nick whispered, staring at the ground. "I didn't even tell him that I'm sorry."

"You're gonna be able to. We all are, because we're gonna find him."

Nick didn't reply and when he saw Sara running up to them.

"You guys have to come see this."

Warrick and Nick shared a look before following the brunette to the security office.

"Oh my god," Warrick said.

On the screen, Greg's kidnapper appeared in the camera by the fire exit, pushing the hospital bed. The door was opened and the man picked Greg up from the bed throwing him over his shoulder. Another screen showed the camera outside where a car was parked; the trunk was popped and Greg was thrown inside.

"That son of a bitch," Nick growled.

Once the trunk was shut, the kidnapper got into the car and drove away.

"Please tell me you got the license plate," Nick said.

"Oh we got more than that," Sara said. "Guess he wasn't smart enough to wear gloves. There's only a few fingerprints on that door handle that match what was on Greg's bedrail."

"And you'll never guess who it matches to," Catherine said, coming into the room.

They all turned around and waited.

"These prints match to the ones we've found at all the crime scenes. I think this guy is our serial killer."

Nick paled. This was not a good thing. Greg was in the serial killer's hand; the guy who had been torturing families and kidnapping kids and doing god knows what with them. And now Greg was going to be a victim. No…he wasn't going to let that fucking happen. No way in hell.

"We're still waiting for an address on him from his license plate since he doesn't have a record and he's not in any databases, but once we do, we're gonna catch this bastard."

It didn't take long and when the address came up along with a name, Nick frowned. "Peter Goode. Wait a minute." He pulled out the paramedic's report. "This address is where Greg was found."

"What?" Catherine exclaimed. "What the hell was he even doing in that neighborhood?"

Warrick glanced over Nick's shoulder and his eyes went wide. "Goode must've taken Greg because he thought he saw something. He's gonna kill him."

"Not if I can help it," Nick said. "Let's go."

Ten minutes later, the team, police officers and the SWAT team screeched to a stop outside Peter's house.

"Peter Goode!" Nick shouted angrily. He prayed that the guy hadn't done something to Greg already. "LVPD, open the door!"

They heard clattering inside and without waiting for a signal, Nick busted the door down just in time to see Peter trying to make a run for it out the window. A SWAT member quickly grabbed and threw him to the ground before Brass went over to arrest him. Nick stowed his gun back in the holster and walked over and grabbed a fistful of Peter's shirt.

"Where is he?!" He barked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Peter chuckled.

"You know who I'm talking about, you son of a bitch! Where is he?"

Peter smirked, shaking his head. "You're too late."

Nick clenched his jaw and ripped Peter out of Brass' hands and slamming him against the wall.

"Where. The Hell. Is he! I swear to God if you don't tell me I'll kill you!"

"Nick," Catherine tried to calm him down when the Texan wrapped his hand around Peter's neck.

"Fine," Peter gasped. "He's in the basement…but like I said: you're too late."

Nick let go of the man and ran to the basement door, instructing SWAT to break the lock on the door. When it was off, the door was swung open and Nick bounded down the stairs two at a time.

"Greg!" He shouted frantically. "Greggo, can you hear me man?!"

"Nick, over there. There's a trap door," Warrick said. SWAT went first to bust the lock and make sure it was clear, but the second they opened the hatch, they were hit with all too familiar sickening stench of decomposing bodies. And this terrified them.

"Greg!" Nick pulled out his flashlight and went in after the SWAT member. It was dark, cold and nearly airless in the small room. "G, come on say something." He light scanned the area, breathing heavily and wanting to get out of the stuffy room. If he could barely breathe, then he didn't even want to think about the problems Greg was having.

"Shit," an officer said. "These all look like the missing kids."

Nick swallowed tersely and he almost got to the back of the room when he tripped over something. "What the…oh my god. Greg!" The kid was sprawled on the floor against the wall. His face was abnormally white except for his cheeks which were flushed. Sweat covered his forehead and a piece of duct tape was plastered across his mouth and wrapped around his wrists. And he wasn't moving. Nick fell to his knees and cupped the man's face, gently peeling off the tape. "G-Greg?" What if he was dead? Well, he looked dead; he was barely breathing. His lips were blue for god sake! He pat the kid's cheek, trying to rouse him, but nothing was working. "Greg, come on, please wake up. We need a medic!" He glanced down and saw that an area on the blonde's gown was soaked in red. _Blood_. His stitches no doubt had been ripped. "Dammit. Hurry!" Nick brought the limp form into his lap and brushed back his sweaty blonde strands from his forehead, silently praying his friend wouldn't die. "Just hang on, buddy. We're gonna get you out of here. Don't you dare leave me."

**One and Half Days Later**

Greg had contracted a really bad case of pneumonia, his fever escalated and his infection got worse. He barely woke up and when he did, he wasn't aware of his surroundings. Nick tried to talk to him when he did open his eyes, but he knew Greg most likely didn't know what he was saying. He had to wear an oxygen mask a majority of the time and if he didn't, he would cough like crazy whether he was awake or not. The poor kid was so miserable; Nick wished he could trade places with him. He deserved it, not Greg. He watched Greg's chest rise and fall, his breath hitching with each inhale. Sighing, Nick grasped the man's cold hand and stroked his knuckles before sitting back in his seat. He sat there quietly for a while until Greg's eyes flickered open. They were glassy with fever and filled with despair.

"Greggo?" He said softly, wondering if the blonde would attempt to say something or if he would even recognize him in the first place.

Greg stared at him for a moment, searching the face of the dark haired man before him. His head was so fuzzy and his body ached like hell. He just wanted to sleep, but he was so confused. He didn't even know where he was. The last thing he remembered was being hit by a car. He had some memory- even though it was extremely hazy that it made him wonder if it had been real or not- that he was being wheeled down a hallway and then thrown into trunk of a car. He recalled trying to move, but his limbs had felt like they were weighted down by rocks. The next thing he knew, he was in some cold, dark space. His side had hurt and felt wet and his head was hurting to the point where he wanted to bang it against the wall to make it stop. After that it was completely blank.

"Greg? You okay, man?" Nick leaned forward, pressing his hand over the blonde's forehead. "Jesus, you're still burning up." Greg's fingers twitched in Nick's palm and the Texan squeezed it tighter. "I'm right here, buddy. I'm not going anywhere, okay? I promise. You're safe now." The man stared at him for another brief moment before his eyes started to close, however, he tried hard not to let them.

"Go to sleep man, you need to rest to get better. Don't fight it."

Fortunately, Greg complied and his eyes shut once more. Nick smiled sadly.

"You're gonna get better." _I hope._

It wasn't until three days later did Greg's temperature finally break and his skin appeared heathier. Nick was eating pudding and watching TV, feeling a bit more relaxed now that his friend was out of the woods. He wasn't really paying attention to the football game, instead hopefully glancing at Greg every five minutes to see if he was waking up. Of course, he didn't blame the kid for sleeping; his body had been depleted of all of its energy and resting would bring it back up. Yawning, Nick sat back in his chair and closed his eyes.

"Nick?"

The Texan's eyes shot open and he saw that Greg's eyes were open, staring at him tiredly. But they were no longer glazed over, the brown orbs a lot clearer.

"Greg. Hey buddy," Nick grinned, placing a hand on the blonde's shoulder.

"Where m'I?" He groaned when his body protested movement.

"The hospital."

Greg frowned. "What? For…for how long?"

"About six days. You were out of it most of the time. Your fever was pretty bad."

"W-What…what happened?"

"I was hoping you could tell me."

Greg shook his head, breaking eye contact with Nick.

"Well…" Nick clasped his hands together. "After we were all fighting- do you remember that?"

"Yeah…kind of."

"We ended up cooling down and…I felt so guilty for saying what I said to you. I hated myself for it, I still do. You were just trying to calm everyone down and we just threw insults your way that crossed the line. I went your place to apologize, but you weren't there. Your fire escape window was open, too. Remember?"

Greg squeezed his eyes shut, trying so desperately to get his memory back. And then it all hit him at once.

"I had…I had run away. All I could remember was your words and so I went back to my apartment I heard banging on my door. It was Pig."

"What?" Nick frowned. That couldn't be possible. That asshole along with the other fannysmackers were locked up…right?

"I was scared…he was threatening me…putting me down…called me a murderer and I thought he was gonna break in and kill me. So I ran. I had no idea where I was going and pretty soon it got really dark and it started raining; I knew I was lost and in a bad area. Someone beat me up and mugged me which made me more disoriented. Then I think someone…I think I got hit by a car."

"Yeah…that's how we found you…we thought something bad happened to you so Sara called around. We actually ended up here because there was another guy who got hit by a car who matched your description. I thought you were dead and it made me sick. We noticed you in the ER when we saw it wasn't you."

Greg pursed his lips. Nick went through just as much as he had. And it was his fault; he shouldn't have run away. He should've just let Pig hurt him.

"After that, it's all blurry. I remember being in a trunk and then somewhere cold and stuffy. I could barely breathe and it smelled bad."

Nick nodded. "Well, you had passed out in someone's yard after getting hit by the car. That someone turned out to be our killer we have been looking for. His name's Peter Goode. I think he was afraid you saw something and he kidnapped you. When we arrested him and got you out, there were four other bodies down in the cellar with you."

"Those kids?"

"Unfortunately. The more recent one died a day before you showed up."

Greg looked down at his hands, clenching his jaw. "I'm sorry, Nick."

The Texan was taken aback. "Sorry? For what?"

"I shouldn't have run away…then maybe none of this would happen. I've been a burden to you guys since the beating and you guys had every right to yell at me."

"Jesus…Greg none of that is true. None of it. Yeah, I wish you hadn't disappeared like that, because you scared me to death. But you found our serial killer…without even really looking for him. The families of those kidnapped kids have closure now; everyone else is safe again. And you're definitely not a burden to any of us; we should've been more understanding, yelling at you was uncalled for especially since we knew you were still sensitive to that kind of stuff. I'm so sorry; everyone is. I know- the whole team knows- that you're having a hard time and we all made it worse. But you've been trying hard and I'm proud of you. You beat death, kid." He grabbed Greg's hand in his. "More than once. You're definitely not weak. You may think you are, but you went through hell and it'll take time before things start to go back to the way they were. No one is judging you."

Greg remained silent, mulling over Nick's words. "I'm scared, Nick."

"I know man," Nick replied, smiling sadly. "I am to, but we're gonna get you through this, okay? You're not alone anymore."

The blonde looked up, wiping the tears from his eyes. Nick widened his smile before bringing the younger man into a soft embrace. "I'm sorry that this happened, buddy."

Greg sniffed, trying hard not to cry, but everything that occured over the past month made it impossible. He buried his face into Nick's shoulder and sobbed quietly. The Texan hugged Greg tighter, rubbing his hand up and down his back. When they pulled apart a few minutes later, Greg wiped his face, coughing slightly.

"So…when can I get out of here? I'm kind of sick being in the hospital all the time," he added with a weak chuckle.

Nick smirked, patting Greg's shoulder. "I'll go ask the doctor, but don't be surprised if he doesn't say you can leave today. Your pneumonia still isn't gone; in fact, you sound a little out of breath, put the oxygen mask back on and I'll get your doctor."

Greg nodded without arguing and put the mask on before laying down. Nick got up and left the room, but before going to find Dr. Reid, he pulled out his phone and dialed the Maximum Prison's number.

_"Las Vegas Maximum Prison."_

"Hi, uh, this is Nick Stokes CSI badge number 54903, I was wondering if Cole Tritt, aka 'Pig' is still there?"

_"Hang on."_

Nick thanked the woman on the phone and glanced at Greg through the window and waited.

_"Mr. Stokes?"_

"Yeah?"

_"He's still locked up."_

"No chance he was let out?"

_"No sir."_

Nick sighed. "Alright, thank you." He hung up and stared at his friend who was now fast asleep. Tritt was still in jail…which meant Greg had been hallucinating. The whole thing had affected the blonde more than the kid was letting on. This was gonna be a lot harder than he thought, but that wasn't going to stop him. Greg needed help now more than ever.

**FIN**

**Hope you liked it!**

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	24. Anaphalaxis

**Anaphylaxis**

_**Prompt for: kasliberg: Greg suffers from a severe allergy (having G6PD)**_

Greg usually didn't stay past his shift unless he had a load of work to do, but today he didn't because they were having a small party after a stressful case and Nick practically begged him to go. He reluctantly agreed and now he was standing by the food table, idly drinking a beer. He really would rather be at home, however; he was exhausted, had done too many hours of overtime and hadn't slept properly in over two days. He yawned before grabbing a finger sandwich from the plate; he was still very hungry though.

"Hey," Catherine said, walking up to him. "What are you doing over here by yourself? Where's the crazy, talkative Greg Sanders we're all used to?"

He shrugged with a smirk. "Guess I'm tired. What's that?" He said, pointing to a funny looking dish on the table that caught his eye. It was pink and clumpy with green and red flecks infused in it. Chips, celery's and carrots surrounded it so he assumed it was some sort of a dip.

Catherine grinned and picked it up. "Have some. I made it."

"But what is it?"

"That's for you to find out."

Greg gave her a suspicious look. "Is it brain? Did you poison it?"

Catherine rolled her eyes. "Just eat it."

Greg bit the inside of his cheek before giving in and grabbing a carrot, cautiously dipping into the sauce and taking a small bite. He chewed it and his eyes went wide in surprise. "Wow!" He grinned, eating the rest of the carrot. "This is actually pretty good."

"Told you," Catherine chuckled.

Greg smiled and grabbed a plate, dumping a generous heap of the dip on his plate and putting some carrots and celery with it. He was so hungry that he forgot to ask what the dip was made of. Ten minutes later, he was happily having a conversation with Nick about last week's football game. He was in the middle of a sentence when his stomach started burning. His smile fell and there was a weird tingling feeling in his mouth.

"Greg?" Nick put his hand on the blonde's shoulder. "Greg, you alright?"

He nodded, not wanting to worry the guy, because he knew Nick meant well, but sometimes his overprotectiveness was annoying. But something was seriously wrong. It was really hot all of a sudden. He tugged at his collar and swallowed. "I'll be right back."

"Greg-"

He didn't give Nick a chance to finish as he turned around and stumbled out of the break room towards the bathroom. Warrick chuckled as he joined Nick.

"What's wrong with him? Did he drink too much?"

"I don't know," Nick said, his eyes squinting. It was possible Greg did drink too much and was just feeling sick and his worry was being blown way out of proportion, but this was his best friend and he knew when something was wrong.

Greg tripped down the hall to the men's bathroom, his neck feeling strangely itchy, his mouth dry and his face hot. He tugged at his collar and blinked as everything began to get blurry. It seemed like the hallway was going on forever and after what seems like hours, he finally reached the bathroom and collapsed against the sink, gripping the basin tightly. He looked in the mirror and saw how red his skin had suddenly become. _Water, he needed water._ Bending over slightly, he shakily turned the faucet and tried to splash water on his face. Lightheadedness hit him out of nowhere, blood rushing in his ears and his legs went weak, sending him to the floor. He couldn't breathe, why couldn't he breathe? Greg pulled at his shirt, popping a few buttons from the force, but he still fell like his throat was swelling up. He was gonna die.

Nick bit his lip, glancing at the door nervously. Greg had been gone for only a couple minutes, but he was starting to get a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he should go check on the kid and make sure he was okay.

"I'm gonna go see if he needs anything," Nick said to Warrick.

The older man nodded and Nick set down his drink and went to go find Greg. He headed for the bathroom and when the Texan opened the door, his blood ran cold. The second he opened the door, the sound of harsh wheezing reached his ears. Greg was writhing on the floor, shirt partially unbuttoned, scratching furiously at his neck and his face abnormally red and sweaty.

"Greg!" He ran over and fell to his knees and tried to help Greg sit up. "Greg, what's wrong? !"

Greg slowly looked over at him with glazed over brown eyes, gasping for air.

"Greg? What's happening?! Say something!"

The blonde opened his mouth but he started coughing…and it wouldn't stop. He slapped the man's back, hoping that maybe he was choking on something. But the uncontrollable fit didn't seem to change anything.

"Oh god." Nick ran his fingers through his hair, trying to figure out what the hell to do. Greg was suffocating…dying and he was sitting there helpless. He didn't want to leave the kid alone, because who knew what would happen, but he needed help. Pursing his lips, the Texan brought Greg over to the wall and propped him up. The pained look on the blonde's face killed him; he was still unconsciously scratching at his neck, having broken through the skin. _Shit._

"Greg, stop," he said, pulling the man's hand away, not missing the erratic pulse that fluttered beneath his fingertip. "Greg."

The man finally glanced at him in fear, tears slipping down his beet red face. "Ni-Ngh." He managed to get out and Nick knew that his tongue was most likely swelling up too.

"Just hang on, I'm gonna get help, okay?" He shot up and ran to the door, swinging it open with such force that it probably could've swung right back and hit him if he didn't block it.

"Help! I need help in here!"

"Nick!" Catherine said, running at the sound of his first frantic shout. "What's the matter?"

"Greg…he's having trouble breathing…I don't know what's wrong…I think he's having an allergic reaction or something." He was really scared right now. He's never seen this happen to anyone before.

Catherine looked past him and at the sight of Greg, she strode in, taking in Greg's wheezing breaths and swelling lips. This was definitely an allergic reaction, but from what?

"Where's Sara?" She exclaimed.

"Right here," the brunette replied, appearing at the now propped open doorway along with the rest of the party.

Catherine turned and glanced at her fearfully. "Get your epipen, Nick call an ambulance."

The two did what they were told, Nick pulling out his cell and Sara running to her locker to pull out her epipen. She had a severe allergy to peanuts and she was extremely careful, but having a few extra pens didn't hurt anyone…it was actually gonna save her best friend. Grasping it tightly, she ran back towards the bathroom. Greg was bent forward over Nick's arm, clutching his stomach with one hand and a fistful of Nick's shirt in the other. His lips were puffy and blue and his eyes were starting to close. Without saying anything, she slid to the floor and jammed the needle of the pen into Greg's leg. When Greg's condition remained unchanged, Nick started to panic.

"What's going on, why isn't it working?"

"It's okay, Nicky," Catherine said. "It takes a minute."

All eyes were trained on Greg, the only noise being his weak breathing. And then finally, Greg sucked in a heap of air, his eyes wide and panic stricken. He leaned forward into Nick's arm, gasping and choking to fill his oxygen deprived lungs.

Catherine rubbed his back gently and Nick placed a hand on the kid's too warm forehead.

"You're okay, buddy. Just deep breaths and slow them down."

When Greg continued to inhale hungrily, Nick tightened his hold around the younger man. "Greg, breathe with me. In and out. Just copy me, okay. Listen to my breathing."

It took a while, but Greg's muscles started to relax and his breaths became even. His eyes slowly started to dip close and before Nick could say anything, Greg sagged into his arm and passed out.

"Where are the medics?" He asked breathlessly, finally able to stop panicking.

"They're here," Warrick swallowed and everyone made a path so two medics could wheel a gurney into the room. Nick let Greg be taken away from him and they all watched as the unconscious blonde was loaded onto the gurney while an oxygen mask was being put over his face. They pushed him out of the room, everyone still speechless about what happened. Nick stood there and watched as Greg disappeared, trembling from adrenaline.

"He's gonna be okay, Nick," Catherine assured.

"What…what happened?"

"Dammit," Catherine cursed. "I forgot he was severely allergic to shellfish."

"And when did he have that?"

"My dip that I made. It has lobster in it."

"How come he didn't know?" Greg would never be that careless. He may be crazy, but never careless.

"Cause I didn't tell him." She felt so embarrassed and guilty. She almost killed Greg! "I just told him to eat it."

"How could you forget something like that!?" Nick shouted angrily. "You almost killed him!" With that, he stormed out the door and headed to the hospital.

~+CSI+~

Nick sat next to Greg who was now sleeping peacefully in his hospital bed an hour later. His face was still kind of blotchy and his neck had a few small bandages for the lacerations he had given himself from scratching. The oxygen mask had been switched with a nasal cannula and the doctor said he was gonna be fine, just extremely exhausted and sore for the next couple days. Nick wiped his mouth and watched the blonde's chest rise and fall steadily, his breath hitching from time to time. He grabbed Greg's hand and squeezed it gently; he had been scared to death when he saw that Greg was having that allergic reaction. He didn't like feeling that he couldn't do anything either, he actually thought the kid was gonna die. How could Catherine be so damn stupid? He scratched his head, trying not to think too much about what happened. Greg was okay now; there was nothing to worry about.

"I'm sorry, G. I'm sorry that I couldn't do more than-" he cut off when he noticed the blonde's eyes blinking repeatedly. "Greg?"

The man groaned hoarsely, his forehead creasing and Nick quickly shut off the big lights realizing they were too bright and turned on the small lamp. "Greggo?"

The blonde hummed and opened his mouth to talk, but all that came out was a small croak, his throat feeling like it was wedged with cotton balls.

"Hang on, let me get you some water."

A hand was behind his neck all of a sudden, tilting him forward before cool water dripped down his throat. When he was finished, the hand disappeared and the comfy pillow was behind him once more.

"T-Thank you," he rasped. He blinked open his eyes and tried to focus on the shape sitting beside him. "Nick?"

"Hey buddy," Nick grinned.

Greg rubbed his eyes, grimacing when the I.V. pulled on his skin. When he opened them again, his vision wasn't so blurry anymore. "W-Where…where am I?"

Nick shifted in the chair. "The hospital."

Greg frowned. "Why?"

The Texan pursed his lips. "You almost died of anaphylactic shock."

Greg stared at him, still confused due to a still muddled brain, so Nick continued. "You ate shellfish."

"Oh…shit." Now he remembered. "Catherine's dip."

"Yeah…you scared the shit out of me, Greg."

"I'm sorry, I swear I didn't know."

"Hey, it's fine, bud. It's not your fault. I know you didn't know."

Greg sighed and shook his head. "I knew it tasted funny…and looked funny."

Nick smirked.

"Am I gonna be okay?" Greg said tiredly, ready to fall back asleep.

"Yep. Doctor said you can leave in the morning. How are you feeling by the way?"

"Like crap," he ran a hand through his hair. "Like I was hit by a truck over and over again."

Nick chuckled and patted the kid's shoulder. "I don't doubt that. Get some sleep, okay. I'll be here when you wake up."

Greg nodded and let his eyes close. In moments, he was comfortable and asleep. The next time he woke up, he was still feeling a bit groggy and achy. But at least he was going home, that's what mattered.

"Hey man," Nick smiled as Greg pushed himself up against the pillows. "Feeling better?"

"A little. Chest hurts, but that's normal. This happened once when I was little. I know the feeling."

"Hmm. I'm just glad you're okay."

Greg smiled. "Me too."

"Good morning, Mr. Sanders," a nurse said, strolling into the room. "How are you feeling?"

"Better."

The redhead frowned as she looked at his monitor right before feeling his forehead.

"What's wrong?" Nick questioned, sitting forward on the edge of his chair.

"He just has a slight fever, nothing to worry about and nothing a couple aspirin can't fix. I'll be right back; I'll also grab your discharge papers." She left for a moment before returning with a small plastic cup holding two orange pills. "Just take these and within the next twenty minutes, you'll feel better." She began unhooking him from the I.V.'s and wires.

"Thank you," Greg replied, putting the pills in his mouth before washing them down with some water. The nurse gave him the papers and he began to fill them out but five minutes passed and he started to feel strangely fatigued. He definitely didn't feel better.

"C-Can you…can you fill the rest of these out for me?" He said, pushing the papers over to Nick. He blinked a few times, trying to keep his eyes open. He didn't want the guy to worry. But actually, _he_ was getting kind of worried. This never happened after an attack before. "I'm gonna get changed."

"Sure buddy."

Greg threw the covers off and swung his feet over the bed. He started to feel dizzy, but he passed it off as laying down for so long. Nick began finishing Greg's discharge papers and was on the last paragraph when he noticed something was wrong. Greg stood up, but almost instantly crumpled to the ground.

"Greg!" He shot up from the chair and rounded the bed to find the blonde eyes closed and unmoving on the cold tiled floor. "Oh god." He pressed his fingers to the man's neck; his pulse was rapid and his breathing was shallow and short. "Help! Somebody help!" It was the bathroom scene all over again…except Greg wasn't conscious this time.

A nurse came in, quickly assessed the scene before pressing the button to call for more help. Nick was suddenly pushed aside as more nurses and his doctor flooded into the room, trying to figure out what was wrong. The doctor lifted Greg's eyelids, shining a penlight into his eyes.

"Eyes are jaundiced, breathing and heartbeat are too fast, fever is rising to 103°. There could be something wrong with his kidneys."

"Oh god," Nick whispered.

"He's urinating," someone said.

They all moved out of the way and when Nick saw, he frowned. Urine wasn't supposed to be brown was it?

"Was he given anything?" The doctor shouted.

"I-I gave him some Advil to bring down the fever, but that's all," stuttered nurse who had given the pills and discharge papers to them. "Why?"

"I think he has G6PD. His blood cells are being destroyed. We need to get the drugs out of his system and quickly before things get worse." They lifted him back onto the bed before wheeling it out of the room. Nick just stood there in shock. Greg was almost killed a second time. It was not a good week for the kid.

~+CSI+~

"Your friend has G6PD, or glucose-6-phostphate dehydrogenase; we've confirmed it after testing his blood. The deficiency is a hereditary abnormality in the red blood cells. In a healthy person, G6PD helps the body turn carbs into energy as well as protecting red blood cells from harmful byproducts when a person takes certain medications which in Gregory's case, one of those is Advil. In Greg's body, not enough G6PD is produced or can't properly function, therefore when taking something like Advil, the cells aren't protected and get destroyed," the doctor explained to Nick and the rest of the team who had finally showed up. Catherine stood back, feeling extremely guilty that this all started because of her.

"Is it serious?" Nick said, glancing inside the room. Greg had been cleaned up, the aspirin taken out of his system and was sleeping once again. He was still pretty pale, but his breathing had finally gone back to normal.

"Yes and no. He just needs to be careful of certain medications or foods he consumes. I'll print out a list for you to have. I'm not sure if he knew about this, because it wasn't on his chart, which is why the nurse gave him those pills. But if he did, you should talk to him about being more careful. It can be serious if it isn't treated or monitored. He's lucky. You can go back in if you want."

Nick nodded and returned to his post in the chair. The team joined him and they all waited until Greg woke up a few hours later.

"N-Nick?"

The Texan jerked awake to see Greg staring at him, brow furrowed.

"What happened?"

"You passed out," Sara said. "Turns out you have G6PD."

Greg's face remained unchanged. He actually averted everyone's eyes.

"But you knew that didn't you."

"Greg?" Nick urged when the blonde didn't answer. "Why didn't you have that in your file? Why didn't you say something when the nurse gave you aspirin?"

"I was tired…wasn't thinking straight. I forgot. It was stupid, I know. I'm sorry."

"And why wasn't it in your medical file?" Catherine added.

"I didn't think it was important."

"Jesus, man, you're giving us heart attacks here. The doctor said you were lucky…that it could've been worse. You need to be more careful."

Greg nodded, staring at his hands. "I know."

Nick brought the blonde into a hug. "Don't scare me like that again."

"I promise it won't happen again."

"Greg." Catherine spoke up and everyone moved out of the way. Greg looked up, pursing his lips. "Greg, I am so sorry that I made you eat that lobster dip. I completely forgot your allergy to shellfish and nearly killed you. I'll understand if-"

"You know I don't hold grudges, Cath," Greg smirked. "It's okay, I forgive you."

Catherine forced a smile for Greg's sake and stroked his blonde hair. She still wasn't gonna be able to forgive herself for a while.

"How long to I have to stay here now," Greg grumbled.

"Just until tomorrow morning," Nick said. "The doctor wants to make sure you're not anemic after your episode."

Greg sighed in dejection.

"But don't worry," Warrick smirked, grabbing a bag he had put in the corner. "We wouldn't leave you here without some entertainment."

Greg raised his brow and watched as Warrick pulled out an Xbox console along with three controllers. He grin broke out on his face. "I hope you brought good games."

"Don't worry, kid," Warrick chuckled and pulled out Call of Duty.

"You do know I can kick anyone's ass at that game, including you and Nick combined.

Both older men snorted. "Yeah right," Nick said. "Two against one, I bet $100 bucks at least one of us will beat you."

Greg lifted his hand to shake Nick's. "You're on."

Nick smiled, feeling better now that his best friend was better. He pushed the image of Greg nearly dying to the back of his mind. He was gonna be more protective of the kid now that he knew about this disease. Greg might hate it, but it was for his own good.

"Ready to lose $100 bucks, G?" Nick said as Warrick set up the console to the room's television.

"Are you?" Greg chuckled, grabbing a controller. He knew he had scared the shit out of everyone, but now he knew he didn't have to hide things anymore. His team was always there for him and he couldn't forget that.

"Get ready to eat your words, bud."

Greg shifted higher on his pillows. "In your dreams, Nick. In your dreams."

**FIN**

**Next prompt for:**_** Marymel**_

_**SandieBrody**_

_**Guest (3)**_

_**Mandy**_

**Meggysmeg**

**CamilaAlgo**

**_Guest (4)_**

**_Marymel_**

**_Anon (2)_**

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**_Meanxruki _**

**_Kitties_**

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**_Guest (6)_**

_**Katie Shimkus**_

_**Guest (7)**_

_**Zarah**_

_**ShortGiant**_

_**Fanatic Reader**_

_**Katie McGee**_

_**Maryam**_

_**Thewhatzupwriter26**_

_**Marymel**_


	25. Collateral Damage

**Collateral Damage**

_**Prompt for: Marymel: I was watching A Bullet Runs Through It from season six, and I remember that Grissom assigned Greg to collect bullets from the shooting. What if a shooter came back and kidnapped or shot Greg?**_

**Sorry for the long wait! Hope people are still reading!**

Greg was not amused to be marking a miles worth of cartridge cases while everyone else was doing something more entertaining. Not that dead officers, innocent victims and two officer's lives being on the line, one being literally and being a career, was entertaining. Maybe he would rather be answering phone calls all day. Groaning, inwardly, he looked back at the officers sitting in their nice air-conditioned car before marking another stray bullet casing. He really prayed he was getting overtime for this…and that no one else had gone home, because this wasn't fair that he had to do this all on his own. Sure, he was glad to be a CSI now, but he wished that Grissom would give him more responsibility instead of doing something that any lab tech could do. He was still being treated like the baby on the team and he hated it. When would he be treated normally? When would he be treated like an actual CSI? Greg squatted by another casing and placed a mark next to it. Suddenly, something shiny and silver caught his attention and Greg stood up, ducked under the crime scene tape and walked into the thin alleyway where a hub cap was lying in some bags of trash. Frowning, he picked it up to inspect it and realized that it was from a Buick…like the one that the cops were chasing earlier. After taking a quick picture to document it, he was about to go bring it back out to his Denali for evidence, when something hard struck him over the head. Greg grunted in pain, the hubcap slipping from his fingers and his world going black for a minute. By the time he came to, very hazily he might add, his hands were being bound and a piece of duct tape was plastered against his lips. A blurry figure stood over him, an angry look on his face, before he was thrown into the back of a car. He tried to shout, but he knew no one would hear him. The trunk cover was slammed shut and soon after, he could hear the motor running and the scent of carbon monoxide filled his nose. Coughing, Greg tried to stay awake, but the pounding in his head made it impossible. Wow, barely a year on the job and he already screwed up. Maybe he wasn't meant to be a CSI after all.

Barely ten minutes later, Grissom showed up to check on how Greg was doing. He felt bad that the kid was doing this huge job on his own when he knew he'd rather be helping Nick or Warrick with one of the bigger crime scenes, but the job sucked sometimes and Greg was gonna have to deal with it. However, he found it odd that the blonde was nowhere to be seen, his kit innocently sitting in the middle of the road where the last mark had been placed.

"Greg?" Maybe he saw something off to the side and decided to go look, but as he got closer, he realized Greg wasn't there. Trying not to become worried and think of an explanation as to why Greg wasn't at his post, Grissom briskly walked back towards the police cars and knocked on the window.

"Where's Greg?" He said, when the door opened.

The officer frowned. "He's right over-" But when he didn't see the kid, he knew they fucked up. "I swear, he was right there two minutes ago."

Grissom growled angrily and walked back over to Greg's kit, shouting his name. "Greg!"

The officers ran up, helping him search. The CSI ran his hand through his hair, knowing-as much as he didn't want to think about it- that something bad might've happened to the youngest of their team. No one was going to be happy about this…especially Nick.

"Grissom!"

The man spun around and saw one of the officers in the alleyway that wasn't far from where Greg had been last. Ducking under the tape, Grissom's heart dropped at what he saw laying in the trash bags. The standard CSI issued camera and a clipboard with the documented casings. On the paper was a couple splatters of blood and Grissom knew they were most likely Greg's.

"Shit. Call Brass."

"Yes sir."

Gil pulled out his phone and reluctantly dialed Sara's number. They needed all hands on deck here. He didn't want to pass off this huge case to the day shift, but Greg's life was on the line and they needed to find him before it was too late.

Sara stopped what she was doing and pulled her phone out of her back pocket when she heard it ring. When she realized it was Grissom, the brunette rolled his eyes.

"No, Grissom we're not even close to finishing yet," she spoke, knowing that was going to be the first question that was going to come out of her supervisor's mouth. But when Grissom spoke, she knew something was wrong. He sounded more serious than he had been all day…if not serious, worried. He hung up before she had a chance to ask what was going on and she stared at her open phone, confused.

"What did Gris want?" Nick said, standing up from his crouched position.

"He said he wants us all to meet him ten blocks down the road."

Nick sighed, writing something down in his logbook. "Isn't that where Greg's supposed to be? Why doesn't he just bother him?"

"I don't know, but it sounded urgent."

Nick looked up, seeing the worry in Sara's eyes. "Alright, we'll pick 'Rick up on the way."

When all three of them got there, they were surprised to see a few more cop cars and officers searching the area. Grissom was standing in the middle the road next to, what looked like, a kit. What- or more like who- they didn't see was Greg; however, he could be on the next block by now.

"What's going on, Gris?" Nick said as they approached him. "Find something big?"

"We have another crime scene," he replied, gesturing for them to follow him towards the alley.

"How come Greg's not doing it?" Warrick said. "Isn't he supposed to be over here?"

When Grissom stopped, though, he pointed to the camera and clipboard and it seemed to hit them all at once.

"Grissom, where's Greg?" Nick questioned in a shaky breath.

"I don't know. He's missing."

"D-Did he wander off or something?" Nick continued, though he knew Greg would never be that stupid.

Grissom shook his head, showing him the blood on the clipboard's paper.

"He was…" Sara swallowed. "He was kidnapped?"

Grissom confirmed with a brief nod and Sara rubbed her forehead with a quiet swear as did Warrick. Nick on the other hand felt like ice cold water was being poured into his veins. His fingers felt numb and his heart pounded against his chest.

"Oh god."

Grissom knew this was hitting hard for them, but they had a job to do. "I know this is difficult, but I'm giving the shootout over to the dayshift so we can focus on this. Warrick and Sara, there's a hubcap over there and some tire marks leading down that alley. I want you to gather evidence and then help the other CSI's see if there is anything further down. Nick, I want you to get Greg's camera and clipboard, dust for prints and then bring them back to the lab. Tell Catherine and Ecklie what's going on and also get Archie to find traffic cams around the area."

They all nodded solemnly. "Where gonna get him back," Grissom added, directing it more towards Nick.

The Texan nodded and pursed his lips, staring at the blood on the clipboard. _Greg's_ blood. How could this fucking happen? The cops were supposed to be watching him, protecting him and now…now he could be hurt. And the fact that the last thing he said to the kid was "you'll be alright" made him feeling guiltier. He had been wrong. He lied to Greg, because killers always went straight for the innocent, unsuspecting kid. Greg never hurt anyone, so why was he always the one to get targeted? Nick blinked the oncoming tears away and took a deep breath; this wasn't going to help Greg. He had to get to work. He prayed that they would get the man back alive. God, he prayed.

~+CSI+~

They found nothing else at the crime scene, so there wasn't really much to go on. There also hadn't been many traffic cameras, so there was no way of knowing the plate of the car or which way it had gone. Nick was trying to keep his mind focused on the case, but he couldn't; all he could think about was Greg and what was happening to him. The poor kid must be so scared right now. The Texan placed his forehead on his locker, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. Greg was a strong guy, but he was just a rookie. He had only been on the team for a year and a half now and he wasn't prepared for this. He was prepared for the sick bastards who felt like hurting officers or CSI's to get what they wanted or simply just to get revenge. This was his fault; he should've been protecting the kid; he should've offered to go help him.

"Hey Nick?"

The Texan looked up and saw Catherine in the doorway. She had been devastated when he gave her the news, but also pissed. No one hurt their family and got away with it.

"Yeah?"

"We got something."

Nick was about to stand up with excitement that maybe they got a lead, but Catherine looked scared…sad. "Something as in…"

"A ransom video."

"Jesus. Have you watched it yet?"

"No, it's most likely a live feed. We haven't clicked on the link yet. We were looking for you."

Nick took a deep breath and stood up. He had to be strong…for Greg. "Okay. Let's go."

He followed the blonde towards the computer room, finding the rest of the team waiting for them. The second the video was opened, they all gasped. The video had poor quality, but they could see the person sitting in the chair clearly. It was Greg…and he looked horrible. He was bound to a chair, duct tape covering his mouth, blood running down his face and looking like he was barely conscious.

"Poor kid," Warrick said.

Nick was pissed. This shouldn't be happening. First he was going beat the officers who were supposed to be protecting the blonde and then when he found who did this, he was going to kill them, too. Someone stood behind Greg, placing a gloved hand on the kid's shoulder, but his head was cut off and they knew that it was probably meant to be.

_"Bet you're all wondering who I am, right?"_ The person began, his voice altered._ "Why I took your CSI? You shot someone I love and because of you dumb pigs, I might lose him. So now I'm gonna put your CSI on the brink of death…or maybe even kill him. I demand ten thousand dollars and every hour that I don't get it, I will stab him…starting now."_

Before they all had a chance to react, a knife appeared in the camera and immediately planted itself inside Greg's shoulder. Greg's shout came out muffled, tears trailing down his cheeks and his chest heaving.

"No!" Nick shouted, breathing angrily.

The kidnapper held up piece of paper with a long number written on it. _"I want the money in my account by the end of the day or you'll never see your CSI again. If I don't see the money in there within the next hour, I'll turn the camera back on so you can watch him suffer."_ The screen went blank right after and the team was left silent.

"What are we gonna do?" Sara said. "Where are we supposed to get ten grand from?"

"I'll go talk Ecklie and see what he can do."

"You know damn well that ass won't negotiate with a criminal even if someone's life was on the line," Nick said heatedly.

"I'll get him to. Meanwhile, you and Sara find Archie and see if he can trace the location of the feed. Catherine, go see how far Mandy has gotten with the evidence and Warrick, you and I are gonna figure out who this guy is."

They all went their separate ways, but Nick didn't leave right away. He stared at the blank computer screen…though it wasn't blank to him. All he could see was Greg, looking terrified and in pain. He would never be able to get that image out of his head…and he would never be able to forgive himself if something bad happened to the kid.

"Nick?"

He turned around and saw Sara standing in the doorway, arms crossed and a sad smile on her face.

"Are you coming?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry I just…" He shook his head and sat on a stool. "These couple of days have been hell and now this. What if we can't get the money in time…or at all? Ever since I was buried alive, Greg's been there for me, you know? And he's just a kid, he's only been on the team for barely two years and he was so excited for becoming a CSI. He's my best friend…he's like a brother to me and if we lose him-"

"We're not going to lose him, Nick. Believe that. Greg is strong and we're gonna catch the bastard before he hurts Greg anymore," Sara replied softly, placing a hand on Nick's shoulder.

"Yeah."

"Now come on, let's see if we can track where the video was coming from."

The Texan nodded and stood up, walking side by side with the brunette. She was right; he had to stay positive. For Greg's sake.

~+C+~

An hour passed and Archie was still trying to trace the video feed, Warrick and Grissom had combed over the victims of the shooting, there being three, but they all had family members and they still had a lot of narrowing down to do. Unfortunately, there were no prints at the scene to compare them to, so it was more difficult then they wanted it to be. But right now, the team was in the computer room again, the camera flicking on. Without words, the knife plunged into Greg's side. His eyes went wide in surprise before they slowly started to close. Sara held Nick's hand tightly, knowing he was having a hard time keeping things together. The kidnapper suddenly grabbed Greg's hair, yanking his head back and pressing the bloody knife to his neck.

_"Tick tock, CSI's, I still haven't seen the money and your friend here isn't doing so well. He's lost a lot of blood. You better hurry."_ The camera shut off once again and the team quickly went back to work. However, they were no closer than they had been before and Ecklie said the department didn't have that kind of money, especially to negotiate with a criminal. So as each hour went by, there was a new stab wound in Greg's body. His entire shirt was covered in crimson red blood and he looked weaker…he was dying.

Nick wiped his eyes, standing over Archie as he typed away. Four…that's how many times Greg had been stabbed and the look of that blood soaking up his shirt meant that he didn't have a lot of time. "Have you got anything yet?" He asked.

"The signals are bouncing all over the place, Nick, I- hold on."

The Texan perked up. "What?"

"I think…yes, I have something. The signal is coming from a neighborhood downtown. If I could just triangulate it to one place…there it is! 939 Murray road."

"That's near where the car chase was," Nick frowned. "Thanks Archie." He briskly left the room to tell the others and not long after were they on the road towards Greg, the paramedics driving right behind them. Nick was anxious- everyone was anxious- hoping that when they found the blonde, he was still alive. When they burst into the broken down house, they all spread out, shouting Greg's name.

"Greggo!" Nick yelled, pointing his gun in the empty rooms. "Greg! Can you hear me?"

"Nick!" Warrick barked. "Down here! Get the medics!"

Nick scrambled towards the man's voice, down to the basement where a laptop was sitting on a chair…opposite of Greg's unmoving body. "Oh my god." He ran over, his heart beating frantically. "Is he…"

"Barely. His pulse is extremely weak. I'll start untying him." Warrick gently removed the tape from Greg's mouth before going behind him to untie the ropes.

Nick was about ready to be sick. Greg was barely breathing; he was leaning forward against the binds, his chin touching his chest and blood dripping out of his mouth. "Greg?" The Texan cupped Greg's graying face. It was cold. He lifted it up, trying to get some reaction. "Greg, man can you hear me?" When he didn't get a response, Nick began to panic. "Come on, buddy." God, there was so much blood. When Warrick finished loosening the ropes, Greg's body fell into Nick's arms and he was carefully lowered down to the floor. The medics finally came bounding down the stairs; they all watched in fear as Greg was loaded onto the stretcher and carried upstairs before being pushed into the back of the ambulance.

"I'm going with him," Nick said without hesitating. He was not letting this kid out of his sight again. While the paramedics started patching Greg up and poking needles into his skin, Nick cautiously grabbed the blonde's freezing cold hand and watched him breathe with the help of an oxygen mask.

"I'm so sorry man. I never should've let this happen to you. I'm supposed to be protecting you but…did a pretty bang up job there, did I." He looked up at one of the medics named Ron. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Not sure, he's lost a lot of blood and his fever is pretty high most likely due to infections. It also depends on what got punctured. It's gonna be touch and go for a while."

Nick pressed his lips together and tightened his grip around Greg's hand. "You're gonna make it through this buddy. Please, just make it through this. Please be okay." Suddenly, the monitors started beeping and everyone became alert.

"What's happening?" He looked down at his friend and his eyebrows rose. "Greg?" The blonde's eyes were twitching…like they were trying to open. "That's it, bud. Open your eyes for me. You're safe now, you're gonna be alright. We got you out of there."

Greg's muscles tensed, his eyes blinked open sluggishly and looked around before landing on Nick. The Texan smiled, stroking the kid's knuckles with his thumb.

"N-Nick?" Greg replied softly, his voice stifled by the mask.

"Hey G. You're in an ambulance. We got you out."

"Hurts," Greg whimpered, a tear slipping from the corner of his eye.

"I know, buddy, I know. You'll be put on the good stuff soon."

"S-Screwed up, Nick. M'sorry."

"It's not your fault, Greg. This isn't your fault at all."

Greg swallowed, his eyes fluttering as he tried to stay conscious. It was difficult, though. He was in so much pain and he just want to let it all go. When he was unconscious nothing hurt.

"Tired," he mumbled out.

"Something's wrong," Ron said. "His blood pressure is dropping."

Nick frowned. "Greg? Greg! Oh god, please don't do this to me. You gotta hang on."

"He's going into V-Tach!" Ron shouted, grabbing the paddles while the other one cut Greg's shirt in half.

"Greg, just hang on, kid. We're almost to the hospital. Please just hang on for me."

Before Nick had time to respond, Greg's eyes rolled to the back of his head and his hand went limp is his own. Then the flat tone of the monitors.

"He's gone into cardiac arrest!"

"Greg! Don't you dare do this to me!" Nick began to cry. Greg was dying…right in front of his eyes. His best friend. He couldn't lose him, dammit! "Greg. Please don't do this."

As Greg faded away, he could hear someone's accented voice, but the clarity of his mind had turned to fog and the pleading voice meant nothing to him.

**One Day Later**

He heard noises, like voices; they were muffled, but close by along with beeping from all different directions. It was confusing, it was terrifying and he wanted it to be quiet again. He wanted to sleep again. There was a weight on his hand and something running through his hair. Fingers maybe? It felt good…comforting.

_"He lost…lot…blood…hypovolemic…septic shock. Punctured lung…removed…spleen. High fever…mod…concussion. Stab …shoulder…might need therapy."_

The voice was deep but soft. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't match it with a name. His body hurt so much and wherever he was, he prayed for sweet release.

_"Doctor said…touch and go…lot of pain…he's lucky."_

What the hell was going on? Why was he lucky? Why was he gonna be in pain. He didn't want to be in pain. The closer he got to waking up, the more things got confusing…like the weird feeling in his mouth that stopped him from moving his tongue. It was like a hand was down his throat. He clenched his fists and inhaled deeply. When he attempted to swallow, he found that it made things worse. He couldn't breathe, oh god, why couldn't he breathe?!

_"Greg? Greg, man calm down, you're okay now. Relax!"_

But he couldn't relax, there was something down his throat. He began to choke and he felt like he was about to throw up. He tried to lift his hand up to take it out, but it was being held down…which made him freak out even more. He was trapped…tied to the chair and being stabbed over and over again. Holy shit, everything hurt!

_"Greg! The nurse is gonna take out the tube, just take it easy, buddy."_

Take it easy? Ha! That's easy for you to say. You don't have a tube trying to suffocate you. He tried to open his eyes, but when he did everything was out of focus. Maybe that was because he was crying. When did he start crying?

_"Greg, stop fighting us. You're ripping out wires. Please stop fighting."_

He throat felt so raw, he needed water, but these people wouldn't fucking let him.

_"We're gonna have to sedate him." _It was a different voice; one he didn't recognize.

_"Greggo."_

Wait, the only person who called him that was…Nick. What was Nick doing here?

_"Listen to me, buddy. It's me…its Nick. Sara and I are with you; you're at the hospital. We got you back, you're safe now."_

_"You're okay, Greg." A female voice that had to be Sara. "No one's gonna hurt you anymore."_

Greg began to relax. He was safe now with Nick and Sara by his side. He felt exhausted, though; all the fighting had sapped his energy.

_"That's it, G. We're gonna be right here with you. Just rest."_

The fingers were back in his hair, but he was still in a lot of pain. He let out a small whimper, followed by a choked sob.

_"It's okay, buddy. I know you're in pain. The nurse is gonna give you some meds to help it go away."_

He began crying again when a more intense pain crashed through his fever riddled body.

_"Shh, it'll be over soon," Sara whispered._

After what seemed like forever, he felt a warmth course through his veins and he began to drift away, the pain dulling. He let his heavy eyelids shut but he still kept a tight grip on whosever hand he was holding. He felt guilty that he was most likely cutting off their circulation.

Nick watched as Greg's body relaxed and the grip on his hand loosened before going limp a few seconds later. The blonde's breathing evened out and his head rolled to the side. The Texan let out a trembling breath before glancing up at Sara and leaving the room so the nurse could fix the wires. Sara joined him not long after, hugging herself. Nick massaged his hand, feeling the bumps where Greg's nails dug into his skin. The kid had a grip.

"How are you doing?" Sara sighed.

"Hand hurts," he chuckled halfheartedly, the smile fading away right after. "He didn't deserve that…being tortured like that. It should've been me or I should've went with him; I should've known the cops rarely pay attention."

"Greg's an adult, Nick, and a great CSI. He knows how to take a care of himself."

"I know that, but he's like the little brother I never had. I was the youngest of seven and I never had to look after anyone, but with Greg…I feel like it's my job to protect him and when he gets hurt, I feel like I've failed. He died, Sara. I don't know for how long because I had gone numb with fear, but they…his heart stopped and they shocked it four times. They almost called it." He tried to hold back the tears. "I begged them Sara. I begged them to keep trying."

"You didn't fail, Nick," Sara replied, placing a comforting hand on Nick's arm. "He's alive. We found him and he's alive. He's gonna be fine."

The Texan sighed and turned around, staring into the window as Greg slept on. The rest of the team was processing the basement where Greg was held and as much as he wanted to be out there catching the bastard who did this, he would much rather stay would Greg and make sure he continued to fight. Though he was skeptical; Greg was in terrible shape.

"He _is_ going to be okay, right?"

"Of course he is," Sara said, trying to believe her own words. "It's Greg. He can pull through anything."

~+CSI+~

Greg looked like crap…he didn't even look like Greg anymore, his face pale and eyes rimmed with dark circles from the blood loss and the surgery, which no doubt took a look out of him. It made Grissom fall deeper into his pit of guilt for making Greg do those twenty blocks alone. He knew the kid was capable, he knew he could fend for himself, but the neighborhood wasn't exactly the best place to be in. He watched Greg's chest rise and fall for a few moments before looking up at Nick who was resting in a recliner and then at Brass who was talking on the phone in the hallway. He returned his gaze back to Greg and shook his head; he hated when one of his CSI's- one of his family- got hurt, especially if it was on the job.

"I'm sorry, Greg. I should've been more cautious. You need to get better, we need you back with us."

He suddenly noticed a little twitch from Greg's fingers and Grissom sat up. "Greg?"

"Gris," Nick jerked awake when he heard the man say Greg's name. "What's going on?"

"I think he's waking up. Go get Brass."

Nick got up from the chair to get the officer while Grissom sat forward, placing a hand on Greg's arm, waiting anxiously. The blonde inhaled raggedly, taking in the oxygen from the tube underneath his nose. His fingers curled and finally his eyes opened sluggishly. He seemed groggy and confused from exhaustion and the drugs; his eyes flitted around the room frantically before they landed on Grissom.

"You're okay, Greg. You're safe now. Do you know where you are?"

Greg frowned. He could tell Grissom was saying something because his lips were moving, but the words were fading in and out and sounding distorted. His mouth was extremely dry and bitter tasting; he tried to respond, but all that came out was a groan.

"You're at the hospital, Greg, remember?"

He did remember. It was somewhat hazy, but he recalled being hit over the head and then waking up in someplace cold and dark. Pain became to make itself present over his entire body as he remembered getting stabbed repeatedly. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block it out.

"Greggo?"

He peeled open his eyes when he heard Nick's voice somewhere in the distance. God, he hated feeling so weak. The last time he felt this way was after the lab explosion, but this was ten times worse.

"Maybe we should wait."

"Nick, you know that we need information to get this guy, especially when the victim wakes up." Grissom turned back to Greg who was tiredly blinking up at him. "Greg, I know you're in a lot of pain and exhausted, but Brass is here to ask you about the man who kidnapped you. Do you understand?"

Greg shifted his eyes between Grissom and Brass who was standing at the end of his bed. He understood the information was crucial, because the guy who did this had left him to die alone in the basement and now he was out roaming the streets. He could come back for him.

Grissom noticed Greg was getting agitated, his nostrils flaring and he hated that he was keeping the kid away from sleep, but they needed this. "Greg? You with us?"

Greg inhaled sharply and nodded. The quicker he gave answers, the quicker he could go back to the comforting darkness.

"I'll try to make this quick, Greg," Brass said calmly. "Do you remember what the man looked like? His face, tattoos, anything at all?"

Greg swallowed, forcing his eyes to stay open. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth. "B-Big nose…deep accented v-voice. Small…small eyes…had a beard."

Brass frowned, sharing a look with Grissom. "What did the beard look like?"

"I don't know…a beard. What a b-beard looks like."

"How was it styled, though?" Grissom added.

Greg looked at Grissom like he had two heads. "W-What?"

"If I show you a picture, would you recognize him?"

"T-Think so."

Brass pulled a picture from his files and handed it to Grissom.

"Is this the guy?"

Greg blinked a few times to focus his vision before they went wide. "Y-Yeah."

"Are you sure? Is there anything else you can tell me about him?"

Greg whimpered, the pain shooting through his torso again. "H-Hurts."

"Alright, that's enough," Nick cut in. "You'll have to come back later, he's in pain and you're stressing him out." Nick faced his friend, squeezing the kid's hand. "Greg, go back to sleep, okay?"

Greg gasped. "But have to…have to give them statement…information."

"And you did, buddy. You did good, now get some rest."

Greg stared at the Texan for a moment before letting his eyes slip close. Nick ran a hand down his face before standing up straight. "What's going on? Why were you guys asking about what kind of beard this guy had?"

"Because," Grissom said, handing the Texan the picture. "That's the guy Greg just identified."

Nick was almost speechless. "Assemblyman Danilo Zamesca?"

"It makes sense," Grissom said. "Remember what he said in the video? 'You shot someone I love, because of you dumb pigs and now I might lose him.' Zamesca's son, Geraldo, was caught in the crossfires of the shootout and now he's paralyzed and still could end up dying."

Nick growled, bunching his fist. "I'm gonna fucking kill him."

**The Next Morning**

Nick was sleeping in the uncomfortable plastic chair by Greg's side, his hand loosely enveloping the blonde's. He wasn't much for handholding, but he had nearly lost the kid and the reality of that happening hit him like a brick. He vowed to keep the blonde close from now on…to always keep an eye on him. Because if something like this happened again, he didn't think he'd be able to handle it. Catherine watched from the doorway as two of her three boys slept on; Greg, the poor kid, was struggling and she wished she could take the pain away from him. And poor Nick, having to live through seeing Greg die and watching him wake up every time and want to fall back asleep because he hurt so much. She wiped her eyes and went to go sit down on the opposite side of the bed. Greg's fever was still a little high, but the doctor said he would slowly be getting better. Catherine brushed a few stray strands from the blonde's forehead and smiled sadly. She hated when a family member got hurt, it made her feel guilty that she hadn't been there to protect them. The woman glanced at her watch, wondering if Brass and Grissom were kicking Zamesca's ass in interrogation. He hoped they were. He deserved the worse. Sara and Warrick were finishing their shift up and would be by soon.

Nick suddenly gasped, sitting up and startling Catherine. He looked like he had just jumped out of a nightmare. His chest was heaving and tears slipped from his eyes.

"Nick, its okay," Catherine soothed. "Relax."

"Greg-"

"Greg's fine. It was just a nightmare."

Nick looked down at his friend, scanning him before letting out a deep breath. "Sorry."

"Wanna talk about it?"

The Texan pursed his lips. "Dreamt that when we found him, he was already dead. I tried to give him CPR, but-"

"Nick, take a breath. Greg's okay now."

"I know, I know. It's just…it's been a really rough few days."

Catherine sighed and was about to say something when a low moan got their attention. Eagerly, Nick tightening his grip on Greg's hand and smiled.

"Greg? You with us, buddy?"

The blonde's forehead creased and he let out a small whimper

"You're okay, Hun," Catherine soothed, running her fingers through his hair.

Greg's eyelids lifted slowly, squeezing shut a few times to get rid of the blurriness. He glanced around for a moment, trying to take it all it. He grunted, surprising himself with the weird sound that elicited from his throat.

"Hey, Greg," Nick said, placing his hand on top of the man's head. "Take it easy."

Greg stared up at the Texan, trying to form words in his brain so he could talk normally. Nick smiled and couldn't wait for the kid to say something even though it seemed like he was ready to fall back asleep.

"W-Where's…Grissom?" He said in a whispering voice, searching Nick's face.

Nick frowned. "Grissom?"

Greg nodded. "Need to…give statement."

"You already did yesterday."

"I did?"

"Yeah, you probably don't remember though, you were pretty out of it."

"Oh." Greg exhaled out of his nose and then laid back against the pillows. "What day is it?"

"Saturday morning. You were out for nearly three days," Catherine said.

"Did you get…get the guy?"

"We did. You don't have to worry about him anymore, sweetie."

"Who was it?"

Nick hesitated, not sure if he should answer, but Greg wanted to know and he had a right to. "Danilo Zamesca. He was pissed that his son got shot during the shootout and wanted us to pay."

Greg shivered, wiping the wetness from his eyes. "I really thought…I thought I was going to die. Every time he kept stabbing me, I was just waiting for it all to go black. He said he was going to leave me to bleed out after the fourth time. It hurt to breathe and I didn't know if you would find me." Tears spilled out of his eyes and Nick's blood boiled; he couldn't believe that asshole could do something like that to an innocent person.

"I tried to stay awake," Greg continued, his voice getting a little stronger. "I really tried, I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, buddy," Nick said. "We're just glad you're okay."

Greg smiled weakly. "Now what?"

"Do you want something to eat?" Catherine asked.

Greg made a face and he shook his head. "No…already feel nauseous enough as it is."

"Well, sit tight. I'm gonna go find your doctor."

Greg nodded silently and once Catherine left, Nick scooted the chair closer to Greg.

"How are you feeling?"

Greg shrugged, shifting a little with a wince. "Okay I guess. Still a little sore."

"I bet…you really scared me, Greg. I thought I was going to lose you. But you pulled through. I knew you would. I'm just sorry that we made you do that road on your own."

"It's not your fault, Nick. There was nothing you could've done."

"I know, but still. You're my little brother and I'm supposed to protect you. Promise me you won't do something like this again."

Greg looked at him tiredly. "I don't really have any control on what the criminals decide to do."

"But promise me…please Greggo."

Greg sighed and nodded. "I promise…as long as _you_ promise me something."

"Anything, bud."

"Get rid of that mustache."

Nick sputtered and Greg chuckled. "It just makes you look weird…it makes you look older or like Ron Burgundy."

Nick laughed. More than he had in days. "Oh really? I'm gonna get you for that."

Greg smirked, rubbing his eyes. "Am I gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, man. Especially now since you have battle scars to show to the ladies."

Greg snorted. "Guess so, since I'll have four to prove it."

Nick smiled sadly. He was glad Greg could still joke around even at his own expense. Why don't you get some rest, kid. You're in for a long recovery."

Greg closed his eyes and yawned. "Great."

Nick fixed the blonde's blanket as Greg succumbed to exhaustion. The man still didn't look great, but he had woken up, had talked, that's all he needed to reassure himself that the young CSI was going to be okay.

Three days later, Greg was able to go home as long as he stayed with someone for a few days to make sure he was doing okay. Nick helped Greg walk up the stairs to his apartment, being the one to volunteer to take the kid in. By the time they reached the top, Greg was breathless and groaning in pain.

"Almost there, buddy. Once we get inside I'll give you the pain medication and you can rest."

"C-Can't…wait."

Nick smirked and placed a hand on Greg's back as he led him inside. The second Greg saw the couch, he tried to go over to it, but Nick took him away.

"Not the couch, it's not comfortable. You can take my bed."

"W-What about…what about you?"

Nick shook his head. Greg's selflessness never ceased to amaze him. "Don't worry about me. You just focus on getting better."

"Okay." Once Greg sat down on the bed, he closed his eyes and laid down on his back.

"Don't fall asleep yet. Why don't you get changed while I get your meds; Catherine packed you a bag."

"Thank you."

When Nick left, Greg exhaled deeply before grabbing the duffle bag and pulling out a t-shirt and sweatpants. By the time he finished getting dressed, he was really in a lot of pain…he wished Nick would hurry up with those pills. It was so bad that he didn't realize Nick had showed up and he didn't realize he had been crying.

"Greg, man, what's wrong? Talk to me."

"Hurts…a l-lot."

"Damn, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take so long. Here."

Greg opened his eyes that had been squeezed shut tightly and saw Nick kneeling in front of him, a guilty, sad look on his face. His vision was a little blurry but he saw two white pills in Nick's palm; he took them quickly and washed them down with water.

"Okay, now you can sleep. I'm sorry you're hurting. I wish I could stop it."

Greg closed his eyes. "S'fine. Thank you, Nick, for everything. I'll be okay." Greg laid down and curled into a ball on his uninjured side.

Nick grinned and grabbed the blankets, draped them over the blonde's body. "I know you will, buddy. I know you will."

**FIN**

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	26. Unusual Suspects

**Unusual Suspects**

_**Prompt for: SandieBrody:**__** Omg I just had a thought, I done know if this has been done... Or someone has suggested it but similar to this one where from Ghost of Past he actually gets attacked and taken by the serial killer as that phone doesn't go off like in the episode.**_

**Enjoy!**

Greg inhaled deeply as he stood in the eerily silent abandoned slaughterhouse, trying to listen for something…anything. He wondered if he was being stupid and making a huge mistake; Morgan seemed to think he was. She told him these things weren't real and he being psychic was him just sounding crazy. Maybe he was crazy, but he knew something was there; he knew he heard something on that tape recorded. He also felt super guilty about Carrie getting murdered and he had written her off when she said he could have psychic abilities. And then she gave him that damn amulet…which most likely got her killed. She didn't have it protecting her. He probably should've brought it, too, but he was too anxious to get out here before the place was torn down and also he was pissed at Morgan for not believing in him.

"What were you hoping to find?" Thomas spoke up behind him.

Greg sighed, shining his flashlight around the area. _What _was_ he hoping to find?_ "I don't really know." He continued down the hall, not knowing that Thomas was hiding a hammer underneath his jacket.

"Well, but you're here. You must have some idea."

Greg ignored the man as he stepped between the plastic drapes and entered the room where the boy's shrine was…where Carrie was murdered. He pointed the flashlight beam to the ground, wondering what to do next. Maybe this _was_ a complete waste of time.

"You want to talk to them don't you?"

Greg closed his eyes, waiting for a sign. There had to be something…anything! _Carrie, give me a sign._ He was so immersed in trying to hear something that he didn't realize Pope was raising the hammer above his head.

Thomas gripped the hammer in his hand, a sneer on his face. He couldn't let this cop speak to the boys, he couldn't let anyone speak to them. They were angry at him, never forgiving him; they were going to tell his secret and he couldn't let that happen. The cop knew too much. He had to go. With a swift movement, he brought the hammer down upon Greg.

~+CSI+~

Morgan stared sadly at her cup of coffee. She hated that she had fought with Greg. That she had basically called him insane.

_"You know how that sounds, right?"_

_ "Yeah, crazy. But it doesn't matter, I have to do this."_

She should've gone with him. Supported him instead of making him feel like a psychic freak. The hurt in his eyes showed her that's how she made him feel. She glanced at her watch and sighed. There was a little pang of worry in the pit of her stomach mixed in with her guilt. It's been half an hour since that argument with Greg and she hasn't heard back from him. Granted, he might not want to talk to her, but he should at least be back by now right? Unless he really did find something at the slaughterhouse. Running her fingers through her hair, Morgan got up and walked down the hall towards the locker room. She almost rounded the corner, when she bumped into Nick and Sara.

"You'll never guess who the eighth victim is," Sara said with a grin.

"Who?" Morgan said, raising an eyebrow.

Nick handed her a photo and the blonde's eyes widened. "Thomas Pope, the plant manager at the slaughterhouse."

Morgan's hands shook and her whole body went cold. Her breath caught in her throat and time seemed to stop. The picture slipped from her fingers and the two other CSI's looked at her strangely, yet concerned.

"Morgan, what's wrong?" Sara said, placing a hand on her arm.

"Oh god. I should've went with him. Why didn't I go with him?"

"Who Morgan?" Nick frowned.

"G-Greg," she choked.

"What about Greg?" The Texan spoke again. "Where did he go?"

"To the slaughterhouse…when we were there before, he was acting weird…like he felt something. He told me his grandmother was psychic and Carrie believed he might be too. That got to his head and…he left to see if the boys would tell him anything…he's with this guy. He's gonna kill him! I should've stopped him. I should've done something!"

"What's going on?" D.B said, coming down the hallway.

"We found the eighth victim," Sara said, her face pale with fear. "Thomas Pope, and Greg is with him."

D.B took a deep breath. "Alright, we need to go right now. Nick you get backup, Sara, stay with Morgan."

"No, I have to go with you guys, please. This is my fault."

D.B pursed his lips. "Morgan-"

"Please, I need to help."

"Okay, fine, but take a deep breath and calm down. You need to stay focused."

Morgan let out a shaky breath. "Okay. Okay, I'm good."

"You sure?"

_No, she was not okay! Her best friend, the man she secretly loved, was in danger…could be hurt! She didn't even want to think of what could be happening right now. But she had to be there; she couldn't just stand around and wait. Waiting was not her forte._ "Yeah, I'm sure."

D.B bobbed his head. "Good. Let's go."

~+C+~

"Greg!" Nick shouted as he followed the police officers down the darkened hallway of the slaughterhouse. Brass, Morgan and Fin were behind him while D.B and Sara were waiting outside in case Pope tried to escape. Nick was as scared as Morgan was. Greg was still his little brother no matter how old they got. They were family and nothing changed that and now the kid's life could be in danger. He swallowed thickly and shook his head. Greg was going to be okay, he had to be. And to make sure no one else got hurt, he had to keep his head clear of emotions. "Greg!"

While the other officers kept rushing down the hall, the three of them veered off into the small room where Carrie was murdered. "Gre-" Morgan froze at the sight she saw. Blood; fresh, gleaming blood pooled on the floor next to a flashlight that was still on. Her hand flew to her mouth, tears burning her eyes. "Oh my god."

Nick's arms dropped to his side and his breath caught in his throat. "Jesus. Is that-?" Whoever hurt his friend was going to get their ass kicked. His body trembled in fear as he turned to Morgan who was silently crying.

"I'm gonna get D.B." Brass said quietly before leaving.

"Greg's…that has to be Greg's blood. What if…what if he's-"

"Morgan, don't say that. Please don't say that," Nick replied, trying his hardest to keep things together. "He's gonna be okay."

"Where is he then?"

"I don't know. Pope must've taken him." He rubbed his forehead. He could only think of the worse right now. What was Thomas doing with Greg right now? Killing him? Getting rid of him? Burying him? _Stop thinking like that, Stokes. Greg will be okay._

Meanwhile, Pope was driving to his house with an unconscious and bleeding Greg in the backseat, his hands and mouth duct taped. He stepped on the gas, wanting to put as much distance between them and the slaughterhouse just in case another cop ended up snooping around there. When he finally got to his house, he dragged Greg out of the car and slung him over his shoulder. Once inside, he dumped the blonde on the floor, wiping the blood on his shirt and tried to figure out what to do next. Should he kill him? Pope scratched his head and then something came to him. He smirked and quickly left for the backyard.

Five minutes after Thomas left, Greg's fingers twitched and his eyes sluggishly blinked open. His head felt like it was slammed between two cinderblocks. He could barely keep his eyes opened without the pain forcing them shut. _What the hell happened?_ Greg moaned weakly; the last thing he remembered was arguing with Morgan and then he went to the slaughterhouse to see if he could talk to the boys…and then it was blank. Shifting, Greg rolled his eyes around, his vision blurry and doubling, making him feel super nauseous. There was something sticky on his mouth and his hands felt restricted. When Greg looked down, he noticed his wrists were bound together by tape. _The hell?_ Now that his head was somewhat cleared, he realized he was in someone's house. _How did that happen?_ What a minute…Thomas Pope. He had been the one with him at the slaughterhouse. He had to be the one doing this. Greg grunted, adjusting his arms so that he could carefully remove the tape from his mouth. Thankfully, Pope hadn't checked his pockets and his phone was still there. With much effort and trying to block out the pain, Greg pulled out his phone and pressed the first person he had on speed dial. His head was pounding, however, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he passed out.

_"Greg? Greg, is that you?"_

"N-Nick?" He coughed, squeezing his eyes shut. "H-Help."

_"Greggo, buddy, where are you?"_

"Don't…know…house? Pope."

_"House? Are you at Thomas Pope's house?"_

"Don't know…head hurts Nick."

_"Just hang on, man, just stay on the phone so we can track it. We're gonna find you."_

"P-Please…hurry."

_"We will, Greg. How bad are you hurt?"_

Before Greg could get out a word, he heard footsteps coming towards him and when he glanced up, Thomas Pope was storming towards him, an angry look on his face and a shovel in his hands.

"Hey!" The man shouted, raising the shovel.

"No…don't…please don't."

_"Greg? What's going on?!"_

The blonde dropped the phone and tried to move away, but Thomas was quicker and he brought the shovel down on his head with a loud crack. Greg's body immediately went limp.

Through the phone, Nick heard the sound of metal hitting bone and his heart nearly stopped. Pope was killing Greg. He heard another crunch and then the phone went dead. Tears slipped down his face, praying he didn't just hear the death of this little brother.

Thomas breathed heavily as he threw the dirt and now blood covered shovel to the ground. He didn't think the kid was alive before, but if he wasn't dead then, he sure was now. Wiping the sweat from forehead, he began rolling the blonde up in the carpet. When he was done, he dragged it out back towards the shallow hole he had dug. With a loud grunt, he rolled Greg into the grave before getting the shovel and scooping the dirt on top of him.

Greg groggily came to as the dirt got piled on top of him. He couldn't move, his arms felt constrained to his chest. He was so cold and his head was killing him to the point where he felt like it was about to crack open. It was becoming hard to breathe and he could both smell and taste soil. Coughing just seemed to make things worse and he had a feeling that he was being buried alive.

"He…Help," he croaked, barely above a whisper. He began to sob softly, realizing this was the end for him. He shivered and let himself fall into death's cold arms.

**Five Minutes Later**

"Thomas Pope! LVPD!" Nick shouted at the top of his lungs as he kicked down the door and rushed into the house, gun raised. Brass and the rest of the team were behind him along with a few other officers.

Thomas had been walking down the stairs, looking like he had just taken a shower. _To wash off Greg's blood_. And the very thought of that made Nick sick to his stomach.

"Hands in the air, Pope!" Brass' voice boomed.

Thomas chuckled, but put his hands in the air, letting an officer drag him down the stairs to handcuff him. Morgan went up to him in a rage, slapping him across the face.

"Where is he?"

"You think I'm gonna tell you that?" Pope laughed.

Nick came up and wrapped his hand around the man's neck, pressing him against the wall. "Answer her! We're not gonna ask you again, where is the CSI you kidnapped!?"

"Guess I didn't crush that phone fast enough."

"Where is he!?" Brass growled.

"You're too late. I want a lawyer."

Nick stared holes into Pope before handing him back to the officer. "Now what?"

"Spread out," D.B said. "Greg's here somewhere."

Nick went up to Morgan who was leaning against the wall, wiping her eyes.

"You okay?"

"No. I looked in Pope's car…the back seat had a lot of blood on it, Nick."

"He was alive ten minutes ago and he's going to be alive when we find him. Because we _will_ find him. Now let's start looking around."

Morgan sniffed and nodded. "Okay." Morgan went into the living room while Nick searched in the kitchen. The blonde took a shaky breath, trying to get her emotions in check. Crying wouldn't help find Greg. She walked around, hoping to find something out of place to tell her where the man was, but there was nothing. Until she noticed there was a huge clean square in the middle of a dusty floor. A carpet was missing. And then it hit her. The woman ran outside and then around back.

"Oh no." There was an area of freshly disturbed ground. "Oh no, oh no, oh no." She ran forward, screaming Nick's name and calling for the medics.

"Nick! Everyone! Over here! I found him!" Morgan fell to her knees by the dirt and began digging with her hands. "Greg! Don't worry Greg, I'm gonna get you out! Just hang on!" Nick was suddenly at her side, digging frantically as well.

"Greg! We're coming buddy!" The poor kid must be scared out of his mind. And he would know what being buried alive felt like. This only made him dig faster. More people joined in and two minutes later, their fingers touched the scratchy carpet. Breathing heavily, Nick and Russell each grabbed an end of the carpet and lifted it out of the hole. And once they unraveled it, they all gasped; Morgan choked a sob at the sight of the blonde. His face was deathly pale, lips blue and blood pooling underneath his head, staining his blonde hair and soaking into the fabric of the rug. And worst of all, his chest wasn't moving. Nick prayed he was imagining things.

"Greg?" Morgan sniffed, cupping his cheek. "Greg, wake up. Please wake up."

He didn't budge.

With trembling fingers, Nick went to go look for a pulse, first going for the man's neck. There was nothing. "No, no, no. Come on Greggo, don't do this to me." He lifted the blonde's wrist, pressing his fingers deep into the vein. His heart sank. There was no pulse. _No pulse, no pulse, no pulse._ His body went cold.

"Nick? He's okay right? Please tell me he's okay."

Nick shook his head. And who knew how long the kid heart hasn't been beating for.

"Well, don't just sit there! We have to…we have to give him CPR."

"Morgan-"

"Please! Don't give up on him. He wouldn't give up on you and you know that!"

Nick pursed his lips and then nodded. "You're right." What the hell was he thinking? "I'll start compressions, you do the rescue breaths."

Morgan tucked her hair behind her ear and waited while Nick counted to thirty, pressing down on his chest. When he was done, Morgan lifted Greg's chin, tilting his head backwards, opened his mouth and breathed air into his unresponsive lungs. Nick placed his ear against Greg's chest. Silence.

"Going again." He repeated the compressions, tears running down his face. "Come on Greg, come on! Breathe! Please fucking breathe!"

Morgan did the breaths again, her own tears dripping onto Greg's lukewarm cheeks. _Please don't leave me Greg. I'm sorry for what I said, just please don't go._ Just as Nick was about to listen to Greg's heart again, Greg's body jerked with violent coughs, inhaling desperately for air.

"Easy buddy," Nick sighed in relief, rubbing circles on Greg's chest. "You're okay now."

The blonde still had yet to open his eyes and it worried everyone when he hadn't responded to anyone's voice after a few minutes.

"Greg? Can you hear me? It's Morgan."

However all he did was breathe.

They looked up to see the paramedics running towards them. Morgan placed a hand on Greg's forehead; it appeared that Greg was still unconscious. Unfortunately, they had to move out of the way to let the medics do their job. Terms like blood loss, smashed skull, intracranial hemorrhaging, and damaged lungs floated through the air until they strapped Greg to the gurney, put an oxygen mask over his mouth and wheeled him back out front to the ambulance.

"He's gonna be okay, right?" Morgan sniffed as they all stood in the street, watching the vehicle disappear around the corner.

"I don't know," Nick said. He knew Greg was strong; he was a fighter, but how long did he go without oxygen? How many times was he hit in the head?

"He'll be okay," Russell said.

But all of them, even Russell, had a hard time believing those words.

~+CSI+~

_Coma. Brain damage. Coma. Brain damage. Coma. Brain damage. _That's all that swirled through Nick's mind as he watched Greg's chest rise and fall. He and D.B were the only ones sitting with the kid while Fin and Sara were comforting Morgan. The second the doctor had brought them to see Greg, after waiting for hours while he was in surgery, she broke down and left. And he didn't blame her; he looked horrible. His face was still unnaturally pale, the lighting of the room making it appear sunken. His breathing, although he was doing it on his own, was raspy since the doctors found fluid and dirt in his lungs. And then his head was the worst part. His skull had been cracked severely from his occipital bone all the way to his frontal bone. There was a bleed in his brain and they had to drain the fluid during surgery to lower the swelling. The doctor said he was lucky to be alive…and Nick was happy that he was…he just wasn't happy the kid was in a coma. They weren't even sure when or if he would wake up. It was critical. Nick reached over and grasped the blonde's fingers.

"You have to be okay, Greggo. We can't lose you." The kid's hand was so damn cold. Nick washed a hand down his face, glancing up at the monitors. Greg's brainwaves appeared in a green line of almost flat hills. They weren't supposed to be like that; brainwaves were supposed to be high and squiggly. "Greg, please do something. I need to know that you're still in there." He was terrified that the damage might've done a number on Greg's brain. The doctor said he was still there though, otherwise the line would be completely flat. The Texan looked up at D.B.

"What if he never wakes up?"

Russell rubbed his mouth. He had thought of that too, as much as he didn't want to. Pope had really crushed Greg's skull. "He's going to wake up, Nicky."

Nick sighed and moved his gaze back to Greg's emotionless face. "You have to wake up, Greg. Don't give up."

There was suddenly a spike in the brainwaves and Nick's heart jumped. "Greg? Can you hear me buddy?"

The waves spiked again and Nick laughed in relief. He squeezed Greg's fingers tightly.

"I'm here, buddy. You're safe now." Greg was still there, he could hear them. "Just focus on getting better, okay? We're not leaving you."

**One Week Later**

Greg was still in his coma, but they all knew he was still kicking and he knew that they were out in the conscious world waiting for him. Unfortunately, they had to go back to work, but every morning, Morgan, Sara, and occasionally Fin would visit Greg before their shift then Nick and Russell would visit after. Sometimes Brass would stop by to see how he was doing along with Henry and Hodges. Every time someone went to visit, they were hoping that it would be the moment that Greg woke up. Sadly, though, nothing changed.

Nick stood in the doorway of Greg's room, sipping a cup of coffee. Greg didn't look like Greg anymore. His face was still pale, his hair was flat since it hadn't been gelled to its original style, and he appeared skinnier. Sighing sadly, he was about to leave and meet Russell for dinner, when he heard the monitors beep rapidly. Nick spun around and he nearly dropped his cup when he saw Greg's eyes flickering open.

"Holy shit. Greg?" He ran forth, putting his coffee on the table and taking Greg's hand. "Greg, can you hear me?"

His head was fucking killing him and his whole body felt weighted down. He couldn't breathe…oh god, he was still buried alive. He could still smell the dirt. Greg tried to raise his arms, but again, they were bound. He was going to die.

_"Greg! Greg, calm down man."_

Wait…Nick wasn't there before, was he? "N-Nick?" He managed to croak out. "Get…me…out…buried. Help…please help…me."

_"Greg, you're not there anymore. You're at the hospital."_

Hospital? When did that happen?

_"Just breathe, man. You're okay now. Open your eyes."_

Greg tried to take a few deep breaths and when his heart rate was somewhat normal, he peeled open his eyes and scanned the room frantically.

"Right here, bud," Nick said, placing his hand on the blonde's shoulder.

Greg looked over. It was Nick! It was a relief to see the man and not complete darkness.

"Nick."

The Texan grinned. "Hey buddy." The pressure on his chest that had been there since Greg was hospitalized was finally easing up. The kid remembered who he was.

"Hospital?"

"Yeah…you remember what happened?"

Greg swallowed, arching his back to shift a little on the bed. "P-Pope…hit me. Woke up in his house…I think."

"Do you remember calling me?"

Greg squeezed his eyes shut for a minute. "Yeah. He came at me w-with…with a shovel. Buried me." He turned to Nick, fear in his eyes. "He buried me alive, Nick. I-I thought I was really g-going to…going to die." Tears ran down his cheeks and his hands trembled.

"Hey, you're okay now," Nick said, cupping the younger man's neck. "We got you out. And I'm gonna help you through it." The poor kid; and he knew exactly what he was going through, obviously. "You're not alone in this."

Greg nodded and let out a shaky exhale. "Okay."

"Okay," Nick repeated, resting a hand on Greg's arm before standing up straight. "I'm gonna go tell Russell and call the others. I know they're gonna be happy you're awake."

Greg forced a weak smile before Nick turned and left the room. However, the longer Nick was gone, the more restless Greg became. His chest got tight and it seemed like the walls were closing in on him. It got darker and the stench of dirt and his own blood assaulted his nose. What if this was all fake? What if he was actually dead and all this was his imagination? His heaven? Greg choked; he needed to get out of here. He needed air. Quickly, Greg pulled out the needles from his arm and ripped the nasal cannula out from under his nose. Breathing heavily, he pulled back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. His first step sent him to the ground; painfully, he grasped the bed and pulled himself back up. Trying again, Greg managed to get his legs to work and he shakily made his way to the door. After looking both ways to see that no one was around, he made his way for the stairwell.

~+C+~

Fifteen minutes later, the team followed Nick to Greg's room, excited to see their friend awake at last…Morgan especially. However, when they got there, the bed was empty.

"Where is he?" Morgan asked worriedly.

"I don't know," Nick replied. "He was here fifteen minutes ago!"

"He couldn't have gone far," Fin added. "He just woke up from a coma and probably isn't very strong right now."

"Jules is right. He's somewhere in the hospital. Sara tell the nurses the situation; we need to spread out and check everywhere."

The team nodded and went their separate ways, praying that Greg wasn't hurt or worse. Morgan ran her fingers through her blonde hair as she briskly walked down the hallway, searching high and low for the older CSI. She had been so happy to hear that Greg was awake and talking; she could finally tell him her feelings and apologize for what she said to him the day he went to the slaughterhouse alone. _Alone._ She should've been with him. None of this would've happened if she had just gone with him. Heart racing, she began to pass the stairwell when a niggling feeling in the back of her mind that told her to go there. Pressing her lips together, Morgan pushed opened the door and started climbing the stairs. She was about three floors from the roof when she found him.

"Greg!"

The man was sitting on the stairs, resting his head on his arm while breathing heavily. His face was sweaty and pale and he appeared to be in pain. When Greg heard her voice, he blinked up at her without raising his head. "M-Morgan?"

She smiled in relief and went to go sit next to him. "What are you doing here?"

"Couldn't…m-make it to…to the top. Head hurts…and my legs got…t-tired."

"I'm not surprised. You've been in a coma for a week. Though I _am_ surprised you made it this far. That's five floors."

Greg chuckled weakly.

"You scared us, Greg," she continued, rubbing his arm. "Why are you trying to get to the roof?"

"I-I couldn't breathe in the room…the walls, they were closing. I had to get out of there. I c-can't breathe. I was b-buried alive." Greg began hyperventilating and Morgan squeezed his arm lightly.

"Hey, hey it's okay, Greg. You're safe now."

Greg wiped the tears from his face and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I'm being pathetic."

"No, Greg, you're not. It's understandable, you went through a lot. But you're still brave; you'll always be the strongest guy to me." She moved her hand down to his and squeezed it. Greg looked Morgan in the eyes and smiled, his ears turning red. But then he grimaced.

"I still need…I still need air. My chest is tight."

Morgan knew he should probably go back downstairs to medical care, but maybe all this was, was fear. Nodding, she helped Greg to his feet and they continued walking up the stairs until they got to the roof. By the time they sat down against the wall, Greg was completely out of breath and Morgan was trying her hardest to get him back to normal.

"Deep breaths, Greg. In and out."

After a few minutes, his breathing evened out. They sat there in silence before Greg spoke up. "I should've listened to Carrie. I shouldn't have shot her down so quickly or I should've gone with her. Then maybe she wouldn't have gotten killed."

"Greg, it wasn't your fault. She chose to go back there when she knew it wasn't safe. There wasn't anything you could've done to stop her. She really wanted to talk to the boys."

Greg sighed and looked down at his hands. "Like me. God, I was so stupid to believe that I would be able to hear anything. You were right."

"No, Greg, I wasn't. It's hard for me to believe in ghosts and the supernatural, because I believe in science. Like you said, you chose science over psychic stuff, but I was wrong to call you crazy. I should've supported you, not brought you down."

"I don't blame you," Greg said, exhaling deeply. "I can be a little crazy sometimes. And besides, you're not the only one who didn't really believe that the boys' spirits could be there. I bet Sara and Nick thought I was being irrational, too. But I really did use to be psychic and I really did feel something in that slaughterhouse. I could tell you stories of my Nana Olaf about what she did…and Carrie…I don't know how she knew about me or my grandmother. I just don't know what to think anymore; it's been a weird couple of days."

Morgan laughed. "Yeah, tell me about it…but I believe you, Greg. Someone was watching over you, whether it was Carrie or your grandmother, they kept you alive."

"Yeah."

"And I'm glad for that. I don't know what I would've done had I lost you, Greg."

The man raised his head and looked at Morgan with a raised eyebrow.

"I had felt so guilty for letting you go on your own and then when we found out Pope was the eighth boy and that you were with him…I was scared to death. Then finding the blood in slaughterhouse and your flashlight. And that wasn't even the worst moment of my life. Seeing you in that grave and not breathing…it nearly ripped my heart out. I thought you were dead. Your heart wasn't beating and it killed me inside. Greg, what I'm trying to say is that…that I like you. Maybe even more than that."

Greg frowned, his cheeks turning red. "Y-You like me?"

Morgan smiled. "Yeah…I mean, I've had a crush on you for a while, but I didn't act upon it, because I didn't know if you had felt the same way."

"Well…" Greg grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "I do."

"Really?"

Greg nodded and before Morgan could get out another word, he quickly kissed her on the lips.

"Sorry," he said when Morgan's eyes widened in surprise.

She grinned, though, grabbing his face. "Don't be." She pulled him close and they locked their lips for a good minute before pulling away. They both laughed and then Morgan rested her head on Greg's shoulder, relishing the silence.

"So what now?" Morgan asked. But when the older man didn't answer, she lifted her head and the corner of her mouth flicked upwards. Greg was sleeping, though she didn't blame him for being exhausted. Replacing her head on his shoulder, they sat there for a few moments until she realized the team was probably wondering where she was and if she had found Greg.

"Greg." She gently shook his shoulder. "Greg, we should go back downstairs. Everyone is still looking for you."

The blonde opened his eyes tiredly and nodded. After being helped to his feet, they walked over to the door and went downstairs to the next floor so they could take the elevator the rest of the way. Morgan had texted Nick saying that she found Greg and to have a wheelchair ready at the elevator. Greg was barely hanging onto consciousness.

"Jesus Greggo," Nick said as he and Morgan helped him into the wheelchair. "You scared the shit out of us."

Greg sighed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to. I was just feeling a bit overwhelmed and claustrophobic."

"You're gonna get through this, kid," Russell said.

Greg nodded. "I know." He glanced up at Morgan and they smiled at each other.

Nick watched them suspiciously, but didn't say anything before he began to wheel the chair back to Greg's room. When they got there, the nurses helped the blonde into the bed and put the I.V's back in his arms. While the doctor was asking him questions and doing a few tests, Nick and Morgan watched from outside.

"So where was he?" Nick asked, his arms folded against his chests.

"The stairwell. He was trying to get to the roof."

"And I'm guessing you both admitted your feelings for each other."

"What?!" Morgan sputtered, his cheeks turning red. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Please, I saw the way you looked at each other five minutes ago. And he looked a lot happier than he did when I left. You kissed didn't you."

Morgan stayed silent and Nick grinned. "It's about time. We were all wondering when you two would get together."

Morgan rolled her eyes. "It's just…I almost lost him without telling him how I felt. I never would've forgiven myself. I would always be stuck wondering what could've been. I didn't think he had felt the same way, but it turns out he does…and I'm glad I took that chance."

Nick pat Morgan on the back. "I'm glad too. You guys will be good together."

Morgan smirked as she made eye contact with Greg through the window. He winked at her and smiled too.

"I know we will."

**FIN**

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	27. Beat Down

**Beat Down**

_**Prompt for: Guest (3): **__**Nick was furious about Warrick's death and the latest case has gone sour and took it out on Greg and Greg getting severely hurt and traumatized? Thanks!**_

Greg had learned, after a week had passed since Warrick's death, to stay clear of Nick when he wasn't in a good mood. The Texan's temper was short nowadays and even the smallest thing would set him off. Greg had learned that the hard way when he had tried to make a joke, but the man didn't find it funny since they were stuck in a very tiring and serious case. Nick had called him uncaring and told him to stop slacking off. Greg didn't understand why Nick wouldn't joke around…he was just trying to cheer the guy up. But apparently everything thing he did pissed him off. It started to Greg think that Nick wasn't really his friend…maybe even wished it had been him instead of Warrick six feet under. The thought of that really upset him, but he just hoped this was a phase and once Nick got over his friend's death, he would return to his normal self…but would anyone really get over Warrick's death? It had been almost a month now and now one was the same. Not even him. He may have put on a façade to show that he was happy; he had to be strong for everyone, but deep down inside he was hurting…bad. Now things just got worse…he was working a case with him…and already, Nick was giving him the cold shoulder. He tried not to show that it was basically a stab to the heart, but that's what it was. However, that's not what he was focused on today…he felt horrible, maybe a bit nauseous and side felt like it was being stabbed repeatedly by little knives. He didn't think much of it though, brushing it off as the seafood he had last night. He just hoped it wasn't food poisoning. Squeezing his eyes shut, Greg groaned and buried his face in his arms. This was not a great year.

"Greg!" Nick barked. "Come on, stop slacking off. We have a crime scene to go to and make it look like you care."

Greg lifted his head, his heart twinging a bit. How could Nick accuse him for not caring? Was it such a crime to look happy even though he was slowly dying inside? Emotionally and possibly physically.

"Are you coming or what?"

"Y-Yeah. I'll just get my stuff."

"You should already have it," Nick scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Just hurry alright? And try not to be such a screw-up." With that, the Texan left and Greg was speechless. Nick's insults were getting worse and worse. Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself from the chair, grabbed his stuff from the locker room and headed out for the car. The ride was completely silent and Greg just looked out the window, not wanting to give Nick more ammunition to put him down.

"Remember, no screwing up," Nick said when they pulled up at the scene.

Greg frowned. He had to stand up for himself. Nick obviously wasn't his friend anymore.

"And why the hell do you think I'm gonna screw-up?"

Nick looked at him with raised eyebrows, probably because he wasn't expecting Greg to respond. "I don't know, maybe because you have a tendency to do that. I could name off a lot of things you fucked up."

"You know, I get that you're pissed about Warrick dying, but you don't have to take it out on me!"

"Warrick didn't die! He was murdered. I know you didn't care about him, but I did."

Greg scoffed. "I did care about him, Nick, how could you say that I don't care? I know you probably wish it was me who McKeen killed, but it's too late!"

Nick opened the door and got out. "You're right…sometimes I do wish it were you." And then he slammed the door forcefully, making Greg flinch. He breathed heavily, trying not to let the tears fall. He couldn't believe just said that…that he wanted him dead. Wiping the wetness from his eyes, Greg inhaled shakily and got out of the car. He was just going to deal with this scene and then hand in his resignation. He couldn't take this anymore. He was done.

Nick heard the car door shut as Greg got out. He wanted to punch himself; he had regretted his words the second they left his mouth, but he couldn't go back now. He was still too riled up and he was afraid he might spew off more insults to the kid. It wasn't Greg's fault for anything and he knew the kid cared; no matter how angry he was, he knew Greg and he knew the man was keeping up a front. He knew he was hurting deep down. When Greg came up and started taking pictures of the scene, Nick side glanced to the blonde and fell deeper into his pit of guilt. Greg's eyes were red rimmed with unshed tears, his face was pale and his hands were trembling. _Dammit._ He knew he was gonna have to apologize, but right now was not the time to do it. The job came first.

Ten minutes in, the crowd behind the tape seemed to get bigger and the alleyway seemed more cramped. It was getting on Nick's nerves; couldn't they see they had a job to do? Clenching his jaw, he documented something he had found next to the victim, but was interrupted by someone from the gawkers and it really began to piss him off.

"You pigs really know how to keep a town safe," the man said. "First the woman two days ago, then the little boy and now this? Would you actually solve the crime if it was one of yours?"

"Are you threatening us?" Nick growled. "Because believe me, I will come over there and beat the crap out of you."

"Wow, a violent cop, that's not a first. You should watch your back, Tex." The man shrugged with a smirk on his face. "Maybe I'm threatening you. Maybe not."

Nick threw his things down and stormed over to the tape. He raised a fist but his arm was quickly grabbed by someone…Greg.

"Nick stop it! You're gonna get in trouble!"

"Get the hell off me, Greg!" Nick shouted, ripping his arm from the blonde's arm and pushing him to the ground. The younger man looked up in shock. Nick was getting out of hand.

"Oh, you're having little baby blondie fight your battles for you? Can't fight me like a man yourself?"

Nick made a move to strike the cocky bystander, but Greg pulled him away quickly while the officer took care of the heckler.

"What are you doing?" Greg hissed. "Are you trying to get suspended?"

"What am I doing? What are you doing?" Nick shouted back. "You fucking embarrassed me."

Greg laughed humorlessly. "_I _embarrassed you? You embarrassed yourself. You have a big mouth and I had to shut it before you hurt someone or yourself."

Nick blinked. He remembered those words…it sounded exactly like something McKeen had said when he was talking about why he murdered Warrick. Anger boiled in his chest, rising dangerously fast.

"But you're just too stupid to listen," Greg finished, chest heaving.

Nick's hands balled into fists, his mind went blank and all he saw was McKeen's face before a white-hot flash of fury.

When Nick tackled Greg to the ground, the blonde was not expecting it. The wind was knocked out of his lungs and before he had a chance to breathe, Nick was punching him left in right. His side was burning like it was being poked with a cattle brand. His face was pounding and when he opened his eyes, at first he saw Nick's furious face, but then it morphed into a pig mask. _Oh god…not again, why is this happening again?_ He tried to lift his arms to block the punches, but Nick or Pig or whoever was beating him, didn't stop…he just kept going. He was in so much pain and so terrified.

"Nick! Nick stop!"

The Texan heard someone's deep voice yelling at him, however he didn't stop until a strong pair of hands grabbed his arms and yanked him back.

"Nick, calm the hell down, you're killing him!"

He didn't care if he killed McKeen, he deserved it…wait…he blinked a few times and what he saw on the ground immediately made him sick. That wasn't McKeen bleeding, trembling and crying on the ground. It was Greg. He had been punching Greg not Warrick's murderer. What has he done?

"Oh my god," he choked.

Another officer helped Greg to his feet and the blonde was staring at Nick with fear and hurt swimming in his eyes. He was hunched and clutching his ribs and his face was bloodied with bruises already starting to appear.

"Oh my god, Greg," Nick said, taking a step forward. "Greg, I'm so sorry." He absolutely loathed himself right now. However, when he took that step forward, Greg stumbled back, trying to put some distance between them.

"Greg, I-"

"Nick, go cool down," Brass said, apparently being the one who had pulled him back. "I'll deal with you later."

Nick swallowed and sadly looked at the younger CSI. He didn't want to leave…he had to apologize to Greg and possibly get him to a hospital. But it looked like the kid didn't want to be anywhere near him. Greg stared at him, horrified, before turning his back to him and limping in the opposite direction.

"Greg, wait!"

"Nicky, just…leave him alone. Go by the car and take a deep breath." After that, Brass caught up to Greg, gently placing a hand on his arm, which sadly made the kid flinch.

"You doing okay? You don't look so good."

"Yeah," Greg sniffed, wiping the blood from his nose and wincing when he brushed up on one of the many bruises he was getting. "I'm fine."

"You're limping, Sanders, and you're bleeding a lot. You should get checked up at the hospital, make sure nothing is broken."

He shook his head, which was a mistake, because it just made his pounding head hurt even more. "I don't need the hospital. They're just bruises and nothing feels broken."

"Greg-"

There were too things that made the younger man raise his head. One was the fact that Brass was calling him Greg; he never called him by his first name before. And two, because he felt nauseous and wanted to show the captain that he was fine. He definitely didn't want to be going to the hospital. "I don't need to be checked out," he interrupted more firmly. "I just need ice. Can you bring me to the lab; I rode over here with…with Nick."

Jim looked at the CSI sadly, still skeptical on whether he was really okay or not. He looked like shit and beneath all the forming bruises, Greg looked pale and like he was going to either throw up or pass out or both. It was out of the blue when Nick brought Greg to the ground and randomly started punching the shit out of him. He knew the kid wasn't much of a person to confront or instigate a problem, so he had no idea why the Texan did what he did. He guessed he would have to get answers later. "Okay, but if you start to feel sick or in more pain, let me know and I'll go straight to the hospital."

Greg smiled weakly and nodded, letting Brass lead him to the car. The entire ride to the lab, Greg was trying to hide the immense pain he was in, but he knew he wasn't doing a very good job at it. His side was really burning and not to mention his ribs were making him uncomfortable. He just wanted to go home, pop some pills and ice his wounds. To make things worse, Brass kept asking him if he was okay and he had to put on a brave face, force his sore body up straight and say he was. Also, he saw that Nick kept trying to call him which made his heart ache. He was having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that his so called friend did this to him. He quickly wiped the tears from his face and turned off his phone.

"I still think you should go to the hospital, kid," Brass said as they pulled into the lab's parking lot. But if you say you're fine, I believe you." _For now._

"Thanks," Greg smiled.

"I know you don't want to think about this right now, but do you want to press charges against Nick?"

Greg shook his head. "N-No. It's okay, he didn't mean it and it's probably something I said to him."

"Still, Greg, it's not acceptable. He attacked an officer; just because he's your friend and you work together, doesn't mean he should be getting away with it."

Greg remained silent until the car stopped. Brass sighed as the blonde opened the door. "Just think on it, alright? Go home and ice that eye."

Greg nodded and got out. "Thank you."

Jim bobbed his head and when Greg shut the door, he pulled away and headed back for the crime scene. When the car disappeared, Greg slowly made his way to his car, still clutching his side, because the pain seemed to get a lot worse. He choked a sob as he shakily unlocked his vehicle and slid in. He started crying a little more once he drove towards his house. By the time he got inside his apartment, his stomach rolled and he ran to the bathroom to throw up. The heaving motion made the pain flare up and causing him to cry harder. Why did these things happen to him? What did he do to deserve this? Maybe Nick was right…maybe it should've been him. He curled up against the wall and hugged himself, letting the tears flow out. He didn't know what to do anymore. What was the point of him being here?

~+CSI+~

Nick knew he was in deep shit. No doubt Brass told Grissom or Catherine about what he had done, but he didn't care. He had finished the crime scene and got out of there quickly so he could go talk to his best friend…if he could even call him that anymore. God, he really fucked up this time. Nick had tried repeatedly to call Greg, but each time it would ring and then go to voicemail. Only after he called five times did he notice Greg had turned off his phone.

"Son of a bitch." He threw his phone on the passenger seat and continued to make his way towards Greg's apartment since he overheard the man refusing to go to the hospital and was most likely going home. He hoped he didn't hurt the kid too much. He would never forgive himself. When he pulled up to Greg's building, he saw the man's car parked crookedly next to the sidewalk; fear swirled around in his chest, making him run up the stairs until he reached the door of Greg's apartment.

"Greg! Greg?" He pounded on the door, but then realized he should be making a gentler approach. He pressed up against the wood, trying to listen. "Greg, please open the door. Please, I just want to apologize." He could hear faint sobs coming from inside the room and it made his heart break. He caused all this to happen…and not to mention Greg had been beaten up only a few years ago and getting over that had been a struggle. Nick looked down at his knuckles and swore; they were cut up and bloody from when they connected with Greg's face. After waiting a few more minutes and not getting any response, Nick grabbed the door handle; he was surprised when it turned and he was able to open the door.

"Greg?" He stepped into the apartment and followed the soft crying towards the bathroom. _Oh man._ Greg was huddled in the corner against the wall, tears running down his bruised and still bleeding face. He also looked extremely pale and sweaty which made Nick wonder what else was going on.

"Greggo?"

The blonde gasped, jerking his head up. "Wh-What do you want?" Greg choked. "Please…please don't hurt me anymore. I'm sorry. I won't embarrass you anymore." He cowered more against the wall even though there was no room to move.

"Greg, I'm not gonna hurt you anymore. I never should've touched you in the first place; I crossed the line."

Greg wiped the tears with the back of his hand, keeping his eyes averted from Nick.

Nick sighed through his nose and stepped forward, however this caused Greg to shoot up from the floor, breathing heavily. "Nick please, I'm sorry."

"Greg, I promise I'm not gonna touch you. We should get you to the hospital."

"No! Just leave, you said you wished it was me anyways."

Nick closed his eyes. He knew those words would come back to bite him in the ass. "Greg, I didn't mean-"

"Yes you did. You've meant…ugh," he bent forward, clutching his side, god it still hurt so much. "You've meant ev-every single word you've…been saying to me since Warrick died. I don't know what I did to you…ugh…for you t-to hate me. To wish I was dead, but I'm s-sorry."

Nick frowned. Greg really looked like he was in pain.

"I'm so sorry, Nick. I'm sorry. I know it should've been me."

"Greg-" But before Nick could finish his sentence, the blonde's legs folded underneath him and he collapsed to the floor, unconscious. "Greg!" Nick ran forward to catch the man in his arms, gently lowering him to the ground. "Greg? Greg, come on man, talk to me." What the hell has he done? He might've really injured his little brother. What if this had something to do with what happened earlier? "Jesus, you're burning up," he hissed when he felt the kid's forehead. After brushing the sweaty blonde strands back, Nick pulled out his phone to call 911. When he told them their location, he glanced down to see that Greg had progressively pale…almost transparent and he was barely breathing. "Just hang on, buddy, please. I'm so sorry."

**Three Hours Later**

Nick hugged himself as he stared through the window at Greg. All this had been his fault; Greg was in the hospital, unconscious because of him. Apparently, Greg's appendix had ruptured due to blunt force trauma. The doctor had said it was rare, but the blonde's appendix had already been inflamed and getting beat up just set it off. Even though he ruptured the kid's spleen, the doctor said it had saved him. It would've happened anyways and Greg wouldn't have gone to the hospital until it was too late. That didn't ease Nick's guilt though. And the bruises…so many bruises that littered his face, in some places a little puffy. His lips was cut and his nose, though thankfully it wasn't broken, was swollen as well. The doctor had also found a couple cracked ribs amongst other bruises on his body and it just sent the Texan spiraling. He really hurt his friend…he _traumatized_ him. He didn't need more cuts and bruises…he didn't need another hospital stay. What was even worse, though, was the appendix had ruptured not long after the beating and had developed peritonitis. The infection was dangerous and Greg's fever was high even after they removed the organ. Catherine was gonna be so pissed. Right now, he didn't even care, though. He didn't care if he got suspended or fired or arrested. He just wanted Greg to be okay; he just wanted Greg to know that he didn't hate him.

"Nick!"

He turned around to see Catherine, Sara and Langston running up to him…and they didn't look happy. Especially the girls.

He sighed. "I'm assuming Brass told you what happened?"

"How could you do that Nick?" Sara snapped. "Greg is your best friend and you nearly kill him?"

"What do you have to say for yourself, Nick?" Catherine seethed. "There was no excuse as to why you would do that to a friend, let alone a co-worker. And don't you say this is you handling Warrick's death, because I know you are hurting- everyone is- but you have no right to take it out on anyone. Especially Greg; for god sakes he got attacked only a few years ago, no telling what nightmares he's going to have because of you. You may think he's happy on the outside, Nick, but guess what, he's not. More than once, I've caught him crying in the locker room."

Nick bowed his head. He couldn't believe it; all this time he accused of Greg not caring and being happy all the time when he shouldn't, when really it was just a mask. And a damn good one. He thought he was the only one, but it turned out Greg was having as just a hard time as he was…maybe even worse since he had no one to help him through it. The poor kid. Nick hated himself; he had become a huge asshole to someone he considered a little brother. He collapsed on the chair and started crying softly. "I know…I know it's all my fault. I fucking hate myself right now. But this was about Warrick. Not directly but Greg was trying to keep me from hurting a bystander and then he said words…almost the exact words McKeen said to me when I found him. Then all I could remember was seeing that bastard's face and it all when white. The next thing I know, Jim is pulling me off of Greg. I swear I didn't mean to. God, he's never going to forgive me and I don't blame him."

Catherine's face softened and she sat down next to the Texan, placing a hand on his back. "He's gonna be okay, Nicky."

"I traumatized him, Cath. When I found him, he was in the bathroom corner, crying his eyes out. When I tried to get close to him, he kept trying to move back. He was so upset and when I tried going to him again, he was about to run out of the room before he fell unconscious. He almost died in my arms. I had ruptured his appendix and he could've died."

"Well, thank god you were there when you were."

Nick scoffed. "Yeah? I just scared him even more."

"Seriously Nick. You know Greg, he tries to be tough even if that meant putting his health on the line. Had you not gone there, he most likely would've passed out and who knows who would've found him…by then it could've been too late."

Nick shuddered at the thought. "He thought I was going to hurt him. He kept telling me he was sorry. _He_ was sorry when he didn't even do anything wrong." Nick rubbed his forehead.

"Things will get better, Nick," Langston pitched in, patting Nick's shoulder, but the Texan didn't reply. He couldn't believe the older man's words.

"Can he have visitors?" Catherine asked.

"Yeah…I just…I didn't want to go in there and freak him out, you know?"

Catherine nodded and walked into the room. Greg looked horrible. His face was bruised and swollen, covered with a thin layer of sweat. He looked in pain. Sighing, she sat down and placed a hand over his. "Greg?"

The blonde moaned. "D-Don't hurt me…pl-please don't hurt me."

"Greg, you're okay. It's me…it's Catherine."

"C-Catherine?"

"Yeah," she smoothed back his hair. "You're safe now."

"N-Nick?"

Catherine glanced out the window at Nick who was watching them guiltily. She shook her head and he nodded, leaving the area. The blonde turned back to Greg. "He's not here."

"Promise?"

Catherine pursed her lips sadly. "I promise. You can open your eyes now."

Slowly, Greg peeled his eyes open and cautiously looked around before landing on Catherine. The woman smiled, squeezing his fingers lightly. "Hey."

"W-Where…where am I?"

"The hospital. Your appendix ruptured after Nick…"

Greg looked down, tears welling in his eyes.

"You remember what happened don't you."

"I don't want to t-talk about it."

"Greg-"

"Please," the blonde choked. "Just l-let it go."

Catherine sighed. "Okay. I'm-" she was suddenly cut off when Greg began crying uncontrollably. It made the older woman want to cry herself. She carefully wrapped her arms around Greg's shoulders and brought him into an embrace. Thankfully, he didn't resist.

"You're gonna be okay, Greg. Everything's gonna be okay."

"I'm sorry…I'm being pathetic."

"Shh…no you're not. You're not being pathetic."

"S-Should've been me…not Warrick."

"Greg, don't you dare think that. No one wants you dead. What happened to Warrick was horrible, but no one would want you to take his place."

"Nick does."

"What?"

"He said…sometimes he wished it was me." He wasn't much of a crier, but Nick, his best friend for nearly ten years…his big brother, the man he went to football games with, went to the bar with him, got drunk with…had literally tried to beat him to death. He wondered had Brass not pulled the Texan off of him, where he would be right now. How badly he would've been hurt. He got off lucky. "Maybe he was right."

"Greg, you know that's not true. You know he says things he doesn't mean when he's angry. He definitely wasn't right. Yes, we're devastated that Warrick is gone, but if you left, too, we'd all be broken…especially Nick."

Greg's crying began to lessen as he sniffed and wiped his eyes. They sat like that for a couple minutes until Greg got tired and fell asleep. Catherine made sure he was comfortable before leaving the room quietly while Sara went in, in place of her

"How is he?" Nick said, coming out of nowhere.

"Not good. You really hurt him, Nick. And not just physically."

Nick bowed his head and cursed. He was such an idiot. "What am I gonna do? I don't want to go in there because he's scared of me, but I'll never be able to fix things if I don't."

"Just give him time, Nicky. He'll forgive you eventually."

"This isn't him holding a grudge, Catherine. He legit _terrified_ of me; I beat him, I yelled at him, I put him down. I won't blame him if he doesn't forgive me, because I know I never will." With that, Nick walked down the hall and disappeared. Catherine and Ray shared a grim look. Were things ever gonna back to the way they used to?

**Four Days Later**

Nick stood outside of Greg's door, contemplating on whether or not to knock on it. Catherine had let him know that Greg had been released yesterday and was at home…which was basically her hinting that he needed to go fix things before they could never go back. She did warm him, however, he was exhausted, in pain and nauseous, not to mention easily startled and sensitive. Almost like he was after the gang beat him up. It took Greg nearly a month for him to stop having nightmares and trust people again and even then, he still wasn't the same. Taking a deep breathe, he gently rapped his knuckles on the wood. It was now or never.

When the door opened, Nick heard the sharp intake of a breath from Greg and he, himself, gasped a little too. Greg looked horrible; the bruises on his face were slowly, but surely fading into purplish-green splotches; the swelling seemed to have gone down as well. His normally bright brown eyes were dull…fearful…haunted and the eye that wasn't bruised had a dark circle underneath it, giving it the appearance that it was sunken. They stared at each other for a moment, Greg too scared to say something and Nick afraid to move. When Nick raised his hand to scratch the back of his head, Greg flinched, stepping back a little and it showed the Texan just how much he had scarred the man.

"Greg," he said, clearing his throat. "I'm not gonna hit you again, I promise."

The blonde didn't say anything.

"Greg, I just wanted to come by and say that I was sorry for everything that happened. You don't have to forgive me, I'll completely understand, but I just wanted you to know anyways. I was way out of line and everything I said, I swear I didn't mean it. It's been difficult ever since Warrick was murdered and I know it's no excuse since you've been struggling as well but managed to be a lot stronger than me. I know you cared about him and I know you care about everything else. You've been trying to help me ever since the incident and I kept shooting you down; I know the happy face you put on is fake and that you're trying to be strong for everyone…but you're really hurting inside. I was an ass; I still am…I'm supposed to be your big brother and notice these kinds of things, but I failed. I'm a failure as a friend and as a brother. I don't know if things will ever be the same between you and me, I don't know if you'll even want to work near me anymore, but I had to get this off my chest, because I haven't been able to sleep properly since I basically put you in the hospital." He exhaled. There…though he still didn't feel better. "I'm so sorry, Greg." He smiled weakly and then turned around to leave.

"Do you still wish it was me?" Greg's small voice croaked out.

Nick spun back around. "Huh?"

"Do you still wish it was me instead of Warrick?"

Nick's face fell at the saddened look of Greg. He slowly made his way back over. "No. No, no, no, Greg, don't believe that for one second." Nick went to put his hands on Greg's shoulders, but the blonde backed away once more. Nick put his arms back by his side. "I don't wish it was you. I wish it was no one…I wish it was me."

"Nick, don't say that."

"Yes, sometimes I wish it was me, but never in my entire life would I want that to happen to you. Greg, if it had been you I…I don't know what I would've done. Warrick, he was my best friend and an older brother, but you…you're my little brother…I'm supposed to be protecting you, be there for you. If I had failed…it would've killed me. I care so much about you, Greggo, I can't express that enough. I hate myself entirely for what I did to you, man. I don't even want to imagine a world without you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, buddy." Maybe he could try again. He carefully put his hands up and Greg, thankfully, didn't move away and Nick's continued, placing his hands on the blonde's arms. And Greg didn't do anything. Nick took a deep breath and without any more hesitation, he brought Greg into gentle hug. Almost immediately, Greg broke down and clung to the older man like a lifeline. Nick tightened his hold as the blonde buried his face in his shoulder. The Texan closed his eyes, shedding a few tears of his own.

"I'm sorry, Greggo. I'm so sorry." He ran one hand up and down Greg's back while the other brushed his hair. "I'll do anything to make it up to you." Greg didn't say anything, but Nick didn't expect him to. After few minutes, Greg pulled away, wiping the wetness from his face.

"Um," he coughed, keeping his eyes down. "I'm getting pretty tired…it's the medicine they have me on."

"Oh of course, you need all the rest you can get. Do you want me to stay?"

Greg hesitated and Nick took this as the answer.

"You know what…never mind. It's okay I understand, I'll talk to you later." He was about to leave when Greg spoke up.

"Wait…you can if you want to…I mean I won't be much entertainment," he added with a weak chuckle.

Nick smiled and followed Greg into the apartment. Five minutes later, Greg was passed out in his bed and Nick was sitting on the couch, texting Catherine about how things went. As he sat there, the TV on low volume, he wanted to do something for Greg. An apology was not enough. He could get beers and hot wings, but he had his appendix removed when he was younger and remembered feeling nauseous at basically any solid food. Then something came to mind and he smiled before going to the car to fetch his laptop. Four hours passed and Nick was about to check on Greg for the seventh time when he heard retching coming from the bathroom. Nick sat up with a frown; he hadn't remembered the kid passing him, but he realized he must've dozed off. Pushing himself of the cushions, he briskly walked over to the bathroom to find the blonde hunched over the toilet and throwing up. Pressing his lips together, Nick went to go fill up a glass of water before returning to Greg's side. Kneeling down, he kept a hand on the younger man's back until he was finished. Greg sat up and Nick handed him the water.

"Thanks," Greg huffed, taking a few sips. He wiped his forehead when he was done and rested against the wall.

"Feeling a little better?"

Greg nodded. "Little. Stomach hurts still."

"Catherine told me that was to be expected. It'll go away soon. We should get you some more liquid and something to eat."

"Ugh, I can't think of food right now."

"Just a few crackers and some ginger ale. It'll help your stomach." He stood up and held out his hand to Greg. "I promise."

Greg sighed and grabbed the Texan's hand. Nick helped the blonde to the kitchen, sat him down and then grabbed saltines from the cabinet and a can of ginger ale. He passed them to Greg before sitting across from him.

Nick watched as the young CSI chew on a few crackers.

Greg looked up and smirked. "Why are you watching me eat? It's creepy."

Nick chuckled. "Sorry…I was just…the bruises. I hate that I'm the one who gave them to you."

Greg shrugged. "It's fine. I'm used to bruises on my face. At least it's not as bad as the first time.

"It's still not right. I'm sorry."

"I know. So how many people know that you…"

"Most likely the entire lab…not sure, but I know the team and some of the officers for sure. Sara still hasn't forgiven me yet. Brass is still pretty pissed…by the way he still wants to know if you're gonna press charges."

Greg shook his head. "No…I mean Catherine told me you were gonna be suspended and put it in your file, I think that's punishment enough."

Nick raised his eyebrows. "You sure? Because I'd deserve it."

The blonde smiled. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Okay…well I'll at least let you punch me a few times."

Greg sputtered, almost choking on his drink. "What?"

"You should be able to punch me in the face. Payback."

"No, I'm not gonna punch you," Greg laughed.

"Come on, I deserve it."

Greg rolled his eyes. "I'll take a raincheck."

Nick chuckled. "Okay. Oh, hey, I got you something." He pulled out a folded paper from his pocket and handed it to Greg. Curious, the younger man opened it up, the second he saw what was printed on the paper, his eyes went wide. "N-Nick…wow. You really didn't have to; these tickets must've cost you a fortune."

Nick raised his shoulders. "I didn't feel that an apology was enough."

"Yeah but…this is level one hundred center seats for the Super Bowl next month. They were probably thousands of dollars…especially for two. You didn't have to do that."

"Yeah I did. I wanted to get my little brother something. We'll have fun."

"We?"

"Yeah, I thought we could go together."

"Oh…I was thinking of inviting Hodges. He's really into this stuff apparently."

Nick's face fell. "Oh…oh okay. That's fine."

Greg started laughing. "I'm joking, wow you should've seen the look on your face."

Nick's mouth formed a grin and he began laughing as well. "Damn, you really got me!"

"I'm more surprised you didn't catch on after I brought Hodges into it. I doubt Hodges is into anything sporty."

The Texan snorted. "You got that right." He was glad Greg was going back to his normal, teasing self.

"But really Nick…I can't thank you enough."

"Don't worry about it, buddy. You being okay and just making things right with you is repayment enough." And it really was. He knew deep down that Greg was still going to be sensitive, but it was going to take time. And they had all the time in the world.

**FIN**


	28. Sneak Attack

**Sneak Attack**

_**Prompt for: Mandy: **__**You should do a prompt where Greg is assaulted and won't tell anyone and becomes clingy to Nick and this annoys Nick because Greg won't tell him why.**_

**Enjoy!**

Greg sighed in exasperation as he got out of his Denali at the crime scene. Nick was still nowhere to be seen which pissed him off a little. The Texan had been late almost every scene that they've worked together and it was starting to be a little too much. He didn't want to rat the guy out since they were best friends and maybe he had a reason as to why he was late all the time, but still. More than three times was enough. What made him angrier, though, was that there was also no officer around. He hadn't done any solos since he became a CSI, but since Nick was practically always late, he was used to it. Greg grabbed his kit and camera and made his way to the scene. Someone had called it in twenty minutes ago, but the witness had used a payphone and hung up without giving a name. He assumed it was some homeless person that came across the body while digging through the trash bags. At least he didn't just leave without reporting it. Walking over to the bags, he started snapping pictures of the blonde woman with five stab wounds in her chest, arms, neck and legs. Some people were truly sick. As he continued processing the scene, he was suddenly struck from behind with something hard. The camera fell from his hands and immediately all he saw was black. Fading in and out of consciousness, it felt like someone was dragging him and they were. The street lights disappeared and his car was getting further and further away. Greg tried to struggle, but his limbs didn't seem to want to cooperate. He blacked out again and the next time he came to, he was being thrown onto his stomach and kicked repeatedly. He curled in on himself, trying to shield himself as well as see what the hell was going on.

"S-Stop, please stop!" He gasped, losing oxygen as he was kicked in the ribs over and over again.

"Shut up!" A voice hissed before turning Greg back on his stomach. A heavy weight was suddenly on top of him, not giving the blonde any chance to breathe normally again.

"What do you want? P-Please, I'll give you anything."

"Anything, huh? So that means you'll stop investigating that chick's death out there?"

Greg coughed, wheezing frantically. "W-Why…did you…did you kill her?" His cheek was squashed against the floor of wherever he was, but he could see the man's reflection in a cracked mirror. He swallowed nervously when he saw the knife clutched in the guy's hand.

"Maybe…maybe not. But that's none of your business, is it."

"It is if you want me to leave the case alone," Greg snapped back, earning a punch to the face.

"Don't ask questions, don't sass me, just do what you're told or else."

"Or else what?" Greg trembled, his face pulsing. There was suddenly a white hot pain erupting from his side and he realized that he had just been stabbed! He let out a choked cry before the man slapped his hand over his mouth to quiet him. Greg breathed heavily, trying to block out the pain; tears dripped down his face and his body weakened.

"Or else, it'll be worse than that. I stalked that girl for years, don't think I can't do it to you, too."

Sirens suddenly filled the air and Greg sighed in relief. Either backup or Nick was there; he didn't care who it was, he was just glad someone had finally got there. The knife was yanked out of his side and pressed against his throat. He could feel his own blood drip from the blade and slide down his neck.

"Remember what I said. I can easily find out where you or your CSI friends live. That's right: you tell anyone what just happened, I'll kill you _and_ your friends. I'll let you guys process the scene, but I want to evidence to mysteriously disappear, got it?"

Greg sniffed and nodded his head.

"Good."

"Th-They're gonna…ask…questions. Especially…since I have to…go to the hospital," Greg coughed.

"Then don't go to the hospital. If you want to live, if you want your friends to live, then you better figure something out."

The weight was lifted and the blonde could hear running footsteps fading away. Greg just lay there, aching, stunned, and scared. What the hell was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say? When he left, what appeared to be an abandoned building, the officer was going to ask questions: why was he bleeding, why was he crying, why was he limping, why was he leaving? Stiffly sitting up, Greg wiped his eyes, unzipped his jacket and looked down at the damage. The blade must not have gone in deep, because there was only a spot of blood. Something he could easily take care of at home…hopefully. Grunting painfully, he stumbled to his feet and walked towards the door. He emerged into an alleyway, but saw the flashing lights of a cop car not too far away.

"Sanders! I've been looking all over for you," Ackers breathed when Greg reached the crime scene.

"Sorry," he said with a forced smile. He was glad it was dark and that he was wearing a jacket so he could get away with no one seeing the stab wound. Though, it was difficult to get past the pain. He just wanted to go home. "I thought I saw someone. If I did, they're gone now."

Ackers shined his light down the alleyway. "Oh…well don't go off without someone here. Grissom would kill me if I let something happen to one of you guys. I'm sorry I'm late, though, I had to pull someone over."

"No worries."

Ackers frowned. "Are you okay, Greg? You don't look so good."

"Yeah…I think I'm gonna go home, must be a 24-hour bug. Nick should be here soon, I think."

"Yeah, go ahead. Get some rest."

Greg nodded, grabbing his kit and started walking to the car, trying to hide the limp. Just as he reached the Denali, Nick pulled up and got out of the car.

"Hey G, where are you going, we got a scene to process."

"_You_ have a scene to process," he replied tautly, shoving his camera into Nick's hands. The irritability from the pain, getting attacked mixed with Nick showing up late and acting like he wasn't was a bad combination for him.

"What are you talking about?" Nick frowned.

"I'm talking about you being late for the hundredth time while I show up here _alone_ to process the scene! It's irresponsible!"

"Don't be such baby, Greg," Nick scoffed. "Ackers was here."

"Not until two minutes ago. Who knows what could've happened to me!" He swallowed. What _did_ happen to him. "I've covered for you too many times, Nick, I don't feel well and I'm going home." With that, he stormed to his car, got in and drove off, leaving Nick speechless. Greg _never_ got mad. And the way he said 'who knows what could've happened to me' sounded different…but he couldn't place it. Something was wrong. No way was this only about him being late. Biting the inside of his cheek, the Texan took a deep breath and got to work. No sense making a fuss of it now. He would talk to the kid later.

~+CSI+~

When Greg stumbled into his apartment, he was in excruciating pain, out of breath and dizzy. He flicked on the light, blinking his eyes to focus his double vision. Breathing heavily, he shed his jacket and glanced down at his bleeding wound. He had bled a lot during the frantic ride back to his apartment and he was beginning to feel nauseous. Leaning against the wall, he made his way to the bathroom, but was suddenly knocked to the floor with brute force. He cried out, the pain from his side and his bruised ribs spreading throughout his entire body. His vision flashed white until it went away and he was staring up at a familiar face.

"W-What…how did you get in here?!"

"For me to know and for you to never find out," the man chuckled. He sat down on Greg's chest, wrapping his hand around the blonde's throat. The CSI winced in pain, gasping for air and trying his hardest to get the guy off of him.

"I saw you talking to that cop…and to the Tex. Did you say anything to them?"

"N-No," Greg gasped, trying scratch the man's hand off his neck. "I s-swear!"

The man tightened his grip, staring at Greg to make sure he wasn't lying. Greg's eyes almost rolled to the back of his head before the killer let go. Greg inhaled hungrily, curling onto his side and coughing violently.

"I told you I could get to you. See how easy it is? You better watch your back."

Through his panting, sobbing and coughing Greg heard the door open and close and he knew he was alone once more. He cried for nearly five minutes, in pain and in fear, until he realized he would bleed out if he didn't do something about the stab wound. Crawling to the bathroom, Greg sat against the wall and pulled the gauze and rubbing alcohol out from the bottom cupboard. With shaking hands, he pulled his shirt over his head and took a deep breath before pouring the antiseptic liquid over the wound. He choked, holding back the shout and the urge to pass out, until the blood was cleared. After, he sluggishly wrapped the bandage around his torso and tied it off at the end. He sagged against the wall, his body trembling. Once he calmed himself down, Greg pushed himself to his feet and grabbed some pain pills from the counter. The blonde downed a few and limped over to his bed, collapsing carefully onto the mattress. He was passed out seconds later.

The next day Greg rigidly walked into the locker room, feeling sick and exhausted. He had to play it cool. He also had to figure out how he was going to get rid of the evidence for the recent case, and in order to do that, he was gonna have to talk to Nick. He also needed a safe place to sleep because his attacker knew where he lived. Wiping the thin sheen of sweat from his forehead, Greg swallowed two more pills before going to find the Texan.

"Hey buddy," Nick said cautiously when Greg got into the breakroom. He wasn't sure if the blonde was still pissed about last night. "Look, I'm really sorry about yesterday…and all the other nights that I was late. You were right; it's irresponsible and I'm supposed to have your back."

Greg sighed. "It's okay, I forgive you. And I'm sorry for shouting at you. I was just irritated."

Nick smirked and placed his hand on Greg's shoulder, only for the blonde to immediately flinch and pull away. Every inch of his body was aching most likely from his wound starting to get infected.

"What's wrong?" Nick frowned, clearly shocked.

"N-Nothing, I'm fine…um, also I was wondering if I could crash at your place for a bit. They're, uh, fumigating our building."

Nick stared at Greg suspiciously, wondering if he should believe this or there was an underlying reason for the kid's weird behavior. "Sure man, you're always welcome at my place. But are you sure you're okay? I mean, you look a little pale."

"I'm good," Greg replied with a forced smile. "So what did you get last night? Any evidence?"

"A bunch, it's all in the layout room."

"Cool, why don't you bring me up to speed."

When they got to the layout room, Greg swallowed thickly. There _was_ a lot of evidence; photo's, partial and possibly unreadable fingerprints, footprints, a few hairs bagged and the murder weapon that the attacker had stupidly left at the scene. His job just got a whole lot harder. How the hell was he supposed to get rid of this?

"Don't worry, bud," Nick smirked when he saw the overwhelmed look on his friend's face. "We'll get through all of this together in no time. We'll get this bastard."

Greg nodded. He felt really sick all of a sudden.

"Ready to get started?"

"Um, yeah, let me just go to the bathroom real quick."

"Sure man."

Greg quickly disappeared down the hall until he reached the bathroom. The second he was in the stall, he vomited violently into the toilet. His knees went weak and he fell to the floor, body quivering as he expelled the granola bar and juice he had this morning. He was scared…this could ruin his career. His _life._ Though, he may not even have a life to be protecting if he didn't do it at all. And he couldn't let Nick and the others get hurt, he'd never forgive himself. Wiping the tears from his eyes when he was done, Greg inhaled deeply a few times before composing himself and getting up from the floor. He splashed his face with water, dried it with a paper towel. He had no idea how he was going to pull this off.

By the end of the day, Greg still hadn't found a way to ditch the evidence, but thankfully he was staying with Nick. He just prayed his attacker wouldn't find him there.

"Greg?" Nick spoke warily as they got to his apartment. The kid was pale, sweaty and easily out of breath. He also looked in pain as much as he was trying to hide it. "Are you sure something's not wrong? You look like crap."

"Thanks," Greg replied sarcastically as they climbed up the stairs. He hadn't had time to replace his bandages and he knew that blood had most likely soaked through. "I'm fine…just stomach c-cramps I think." He glanced around the parking lot nervously, hoping that he wouldn't be seeing a familiar face. "Can we just go inside now?"

Nick bobbed his head and unlocked the door. Once inside, Greg went straight for the bathroom. It was getting harder and harder to hide the pain and he knew it was only a matter of time before he either passed out or needed to tell someone and go to the hospital. However, with people's lives being threatened, he veered more towards passing out. Pulling off his shirt, he peeled the bandages away to find the wound puckered and red, pus oozing out mixed with blood. _Shit. _It was definitely infected. He rummaged around Nick's bathroom, hoping to find clean gauze, but it was empty.

"Greggo, what's taking you so long in there?!" Nick shouted from the hallway, knocking on the door. "I ordered pizza and it's getting cold!"

The blonde cleared his throat. "Uh, almost done." He flushed the toilet before pulling his shirt back on and opening the door. He would have to do something about the wound later. Nick was waiting right outside, a weird look on his face.

"You alright?" Nick asked. He didn't think it was possible for Greg to look ten times worse in the past five minutes.

"Y-Yeah, sorry. I'm actually not that hungry, is there a place where I can lay down?"

Nick hesitated and then nodded. "The guest room is on the left. I'll save some pizza for later in case you end up wanting some."

"Thanks, Nick," Greg smiled. "Really, thanks for letting me stay here."

"No problem bud."

Nick watched as Greg walked into the guest room, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Greg was his little brother and he knew when something was wrong…and they were family, so why wouldn't the kid say anything? Didn't he trust them? Didn't he trust _him?_ Biting his lip, the Texan sat down and ate a few pieces of pizza before going to check on the blonde. It had only been ten minutes, but Greg was already fast asleep.

"What aren't you telling me, Greggo?" He muttered, seeing a slight trace of pain etched on the younger man's face. "What's going on with you?"

~+C+~

Throughout the next few days, Greg was scared to leave Nick's side, let alone _anyone's_ side. He felt that if he wasn't alone, his attacker wouldn't make a move. He wasn't sure if he was being paranoid, the slight fever from the infection was getting worse, or even both, but he swore he saw the man once or twice…which made him clingier to Nick and he could tell it was annoying the Texan. He wouldn't go off on his own during a crime scene and he didn't leave the apartment unless he was with Nick. The Texan was also pissed off because their evidence from the previous scene had gone missing. Greg claimed he knew nothing about it when really he had stolen the box and shoved it in his trunk, that way the killer couldn't get to it and he could also get rid of it without actually destroying it. Though now, he just felt sick and guilty about the whole thing. This was his dream job and he was taking a big risk messing with evidence; because if he got caught, life as he knew it was over. His wound was also starting to get really bad, only changing his wrappings once when he found a roll of gauze in the first aid kit at work. Nick kept asking him if he was okay since he barely ate, slept the second the finished their shifts, "secretly" popped pills and looked ill. He also kept asking when Greg's building would be ready to live in again, because frankly he _was_ getting annoyed the kid was following him around like a dog. And the fact that Greg wouldn't talk to him about what was plaguing him was even more irritating.

"Nick," Catherine said, walking up to the Texan in the computer room.

"Hey Cath, what's up?"

"I've got bad news. Security found a tape that had gone missing the day your evidence was stolen…it turns out that Greg was the one who did it."

Nick frowned, completely awestruck. "That can't be true…are you…are you sure?"

"Unfortunately."

Nick sighed, washing a hand down his face. "Does Greg know?"

"Not yet. I need to go to a scene right now. Plus, I thought you should be the one to tell him."

"What are you gonna do after?"

"Tell the director…unless he has an explanation for doing so. He's gonna get in trouble either way, Nick."

"Dammit." He had enough of this; he was going to make Greg tell him what was up one way or another. "I'll go talk to him."

Catherine smiled sadly, patting Nick on the arm before he left to go find the blonde. He found Greg in the bathroom, gripping the sink and eyes closed, trying to breathe.

"Greg, are you feeling okay?"

The CSI shot up straight, swaying a little on his feet. He didn't know how long he had been standing there, but all he knew was that he felt super nauseous and dizzy and had to get to the bathroom before he made a fool of himself. "Yeah, I'm just tired," he replied.

"Bullshit," Nick snapped and Greg seemed startled by this reaction. "I know you're hiding something from me, Greg and I'm sick and tired of you lying to me! You look like crap, you're walking weird, all you do is sleep, you won't leave me alone and I just want to have _my_ apartment to _myself_! And even worse, I find out that _you_ stole the evidence from our crime scene we had a few days ago. What the hell is going on with you, man? And don't you dare say nothing, because I swear to god I will hit you if you do!"

"Nick I…I can't tell you," Greg replied in a small voice, never hearing Nick shout before…at him anyways.

"And why the hell not!? I thought we were friends, Greg, I thought we were family."

Greg remained silent, staring down at the ground, tears welling in his eyes. This secret was tearing him apart. Nick scoffed. "Guess I'm gonna go tell Catherine to call the director. I tried to help you man, I really did."

Greg's eyes widened. _Oh no, he was gonna get fired._ He felt vomit, climbing its way out of his stomach and he was becoming hot and lightheaded. "Nick wait!" He stepped forward and pain shot up his side. _Shit, he forgot to take his pills._ He vomited harshly before his legs folded underneath him and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

Nick barely got one foot out of the door when he heard Greg throw up. When he turned around, he saw Greg fall to the floor, unconscious.

"Greg!" Nick ran back over and got to his knees, gently shaking the kid's shoulder. "Greg? Come on buddy." The blonde's shirt was stuck to his chest with sweat and his body was shivering. And then something caught his eye; the hem of Greg's shirt was up a little and he caught sight of something…a bandage. Frowning, he pulled the shirt away and gasped; the gauze was wrapped tightly against Greg's torso, but it was no longer white; it was slightly brown and one side was completely soaked in blood…old and new. His breathing was short and raspy and he was burning up; Greg must've had this for a while. _Oh god, this is really bad._ Nick pulled out his phone and dialed 911, making sure Greg didn't get any worse. "Jesus Christ, kid. What the hell happened to you?"

**Several Hours Later**

Greg's eyelids blinked open sluggishly and he was met with a bright, sun-filled room. He felt sick and his side ached, but not as bad as before. Something felt different…he felt like he was on drugs. He rolled his eyes around, recognizing the familiarity of a hospital room. _Crap._

"Greg?"

Rubbing his eyes, Greg looked over to his left to see Nick staring back at him. _Double crap._ "Nick…what h-happened?"

"I don't know," the Texan replied a little harshly. "You tell me."

The blonde stay quiet.

"You pass out in the bathroom, bleeding from an infected wound that you look like you've had for days and you're giving me the silent treatment? The doctor said a couple more days and you could've died! How the hell could you have been so careless? Greg, please talk to me; when did you get stabbed or get broken ribs and all those bruises? Did someone attack you?"

"Nick, its fine."

"No it's not fine! Fuck, Greg tell me!"

The blonde let out a shuddering breath and looked down at his hands. "I can't, Nick. I'm sorry, but I can't." If only the Texan knew he was doing this to protect everyone.

"Fine…then tell me what you did with the evidence so you at least don't get arrested."

"It's in a safe place."

Nick scoffed. "Am I supposed to take your word for that? You've been lying to me for nearly a week!"

"I can't Nick. It's better that you don't know." _But was that really true?_

"Un-fucking-believable! We're supposed to be friends, maybe even brothers, but I guess I was wrong," Nick spat. "Have a nice life in prison, Greg. Don't expect me to visit you; you brought this on yourself." He got up from the chair and stalked out of the room, leaving Greg speechless and near tears. He didn't think Nick would ever say something so horrible to him, but maybe he gave the guy a reason to. He should be trusting at least Nick; he was just scared he would get his friend hurt. Biting the inside of his cheek, he decided enough was enough. Greg unhooked himself from the monitors and I.V's before pulling on his street clothes and shuffling towards the reception desk to sign himself even if was against medical advice. By the time he got into the taxi, he was beginning to feel the effects of not being on pain reducing drugs. He was out of breath, the stinging in his side was starting to come back and he was sweating profusely. The taxi driver kept glancing at him weirdly, but he didn't care. He just needed to get the evidence, get into his apartment and call Nick. He was going to tell him everything. He just hoped it was the right thing to do.

~+CSI+~

Nick swore loudly to himself when he got into the Denali. He had crossed the line with Greg. Clearly the kid was having a hard time and there was something holding him back, keeping him from telling him the truth. A friend would stay and try harder and wouldn't yell at him or say things like he had said. Scratching his head, he got back out of the car and walked into the hospital. When he reached Greg's room, however, he found it empty, a nurse putting on new sheets and pillows. He began to fear the worse; surely nothing bad could've happened in the past ten minutes right?

"Um, excuse me, what happened to the man who was just in here?" He asked calmly.

"Oh, he signed out not that long ago, although it was against medical advice."

"Why did anyone stop him?"

"It was his choice, not ours. We tried to make him stay, but he sounded insistent on leaving. Said he had to make things right, whatever that meant; sounded like the fever talking."

"Son of a bitch," Nick muttered and rushed back down the hallway. He pulled out his phone and noticed he had missed a call and had a voicemail from the very person he was looking for.

_"Nick…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know I should've told you, but I didn't want you to get hurt. He was gonna hurt all of us if I didn't do what he told me to do. I had to leave and make things right. Please…just come over to my apartment and I'll tell you everything. I don't want to go to jail, please just hear me out."_

Who the hell was Greg talking about? Who was going to hurt them? At least Greg was finally gonna tell him the truth. He pulled out of the parking lot and sped to Greg's apartment. By the time he got there, he had called Greg twice and the man failed to answer; something bad had happened and he could feel it. Heart pounding, he rushed up the stairs and to Greg's door…it was open. Nick pulled his gun out and carefully pushed opened the door.

"Greg?"

The apartment was a complete disaster. The window was broken as were some of the chairs and the coffee table. Greg's magazines, CD's and other possessions were scattered all over the floor and his TV was off the stand, the screen shattered. Worst of all there was a bloody bat on the floor.

"Oh god. Greg!" He quickly stepped down the hall when he heard splashing and a voice coming from the bathroom. He was horrified at what he saw: a dark haired man was holding the blonde's head underwater in the bathtub…and Greg wasn't even moving. Why the hell wasn't he struggling to get out?

"Hey! Let him go!" Nick shouted.

The man turned to him, letting go of Greg. The young CSI limply fell to the floor, his face bloodied and severely bruised. There was a few huge gashes on his head and a bruise forming around his neck. He had been strangled. Unable to contain his rage, Nick ran forward and tackled the man to the ground; the two grappled for a few moments, Nick throwing a few punches and getting punched himself. It seemed to go on forever and all Nick could think about was Greg lying in the bathroom, beaten to a pulp and possibly dying. The thought of that pumped his adrenaline and he finally got the upper hand. He wrapped his hands around the guy's neck, though not too tight; he needed answers.

"Who are you?" He growled breathlessly, tasting blood on his lips.

The man just laughed.

"I'm not gonna ask you again, who are you?!"

"I told that little runt to keep his mouth shut," the brunette spoke in a strained voice. "He was going to tell you everything…so I had to shut his mouth for him."

"Keep his mouth shut about what?" Nick snapped, holding himself back from killing the guy. "What did you do?"

The man cackled some more. "He got what he deserved. I told him I'd kill him and his friends if he didn't get rid of the evidence. But since I'm caught, killing him will have to suffice."

Nick swallowed, horrified of the fact that his friend could by dead in the bathroom right now. "G-Greg? Greg, please say something buddy!" He shouted, unfortunately getting no reply.

"You were too late," the brunette smirked. "He's gone."

Nick trembled in fury and before he knew it, he was slamming Greg's potential killer's head on the ground repeatedly until he was unconscious. Wiping his bleeding nose, Nick crawled back over to the bathroom and lingered over the blonde.

"Greg?" God, he looked so pale…so still. It was wrong. His lips were turning blue and Nick was afraid to see if the guy had been right about him being too late. He pressed his finger against Greg's clammy neck and sighed.

"Oh thank god." There was a pulse; granted it was extremely weak, but Greg was alive. Was he breathing though? He hovered his ear over the man's slack mouth and his heart stopped. No air was coming out.

"No, no, no, no. Greg, come on please don't do this to me. Please don't fucking do this." He slapped the blonde's wet, beaten, colorless face, trying to get some response. Nick's bottom lip trembled. "Greggo?" He had to focus…crying wasn't going to save his best friend. Quickly, he called 911, yelling for them get over to them quickly before starting CPR. Greg's skin was so cold…too cold. He couldn't believe this fucking happened. Greg had been coerced into doing what he had done. He should've known the kid would never do anything stupid to jeopardize his career.

"I'm sorry, buddy, I'm sorry. Please come back…breathe!" Tears burned his eyes as the rescue breaths did nothing. The kid's lips felt waxy and Nick knew he was running out of time. _I can't lose you man, please, I can't lose you like this._ He had really fucked up this time.

~+C+~

Nick was shivering from fear and anger. The medics had finally shown up and brought Greg to the hospital, but he still wasn't breathing on his own. Nick had to watch as they shoved a tube down his throat and manually pump air into his deprived lungs. He was now sitting in the waiting room _alone_ because he was too numb to pick up the phone and call the rest of the team. He had to calm himself down before he could do that. Running both his hands down his face, the Texan glanced at his watch, wondering what the hell was taking so long. God, he felt so guilty; for abandoning Greg when he needed him, for yelling at him, and assuming the kid was doing this all for kicks. He had been _stabbed_ and had broken ribs and recent bruises which most likely meant Greg had been attacked not too long ago. That was why Greg was so clingy lately; he was scared the man that was basically holding a gun to his head was gonna hurt him again if he was alone. Thankfully, the cops had come with the paramedics and arrested the still unconscious perpetrator and he couldn't wait to wring his hands around the guy's neck once more.

"Mr. Stokes?"

Nick looked up from the ground and saw a doctor looking at him. Getting to his feet, he walked over to the man, trying to make himself breathe. "Yes?"

"You came in with Gregory Sanders, right?"

Nick wiped his sweaty hands on his pants. "Yeah. How…how is he? Is he breathing again?"

"Not on his own; we have him on a ventilator until his lungs are strong enough. We found a lot of water in them, it's a miracle he's alive."

The Texan could sense a 'but' at the tip of the doctor's tongue. "But what?"

The man sighed heavily and Nick knew it was bad.

"Please…what is it?"

"He's in a coma, Mr. Stokes."

"Holy fuck," Nick muttered, rubbing his forehead and his legs feeling like jello.

"There was a massive bleed in his brain, causing it to swell. We're trying to drain the fluid, but the blunt force trauma was pretty severe. He'll be lucky if he has no brain damage, however, like I said, he's in a coma and we're not sure when he'll be waking up. It could be days, weeks, and unfortunately possible for it to be months or years. I wish it wasn't like this, I'm sorry. But he is alive and he'll need to know that he's not alone."

"I can see him?" Nick replied shakily.

"Of course. There's evidence proving that coma patients can hear sounds and people talking. He should be getting all the support he can."

"Okay…I just…I have to call someone first."

"Of course, take your time. Nurse Roberts can take you up when you're ready."

Nick forced a weak smile before pulling out his phone and calling Catherine. He didn't even realize that he had five missed calls from her and two from Grissom.

_"Nick where the hell have you been? I've been calling you for hours!"_

"Cath, I'm sorry, I-"

_"And where's Greg? Grissom needs to talk to him."_

"Stop talking for a minute, please! I'm at the hospital, Greg's in a coma."

The line was silent before Catherine spoke again. _"What happened?"_

"It's a really long story. I'll explain it all later, but can you…can you please just get here? I don't think I can deal with this on my own right now."

_"We'll be right over."_

Nick hung up, rubbed his mouth and then let the nurse know he was ready to go. When they got to the room, the nurse opened the door for him.

"If you need anything, we're right across the hall."

"Thanks." He stepped inside and inhaled sharply. "Jesus Greggo." The kid's head was wrapped tightly in a thick white bandage, a drainage tube snaking out from underneath. Another tube trailed out of his mouth to a ventilator, doing what Greg's lungs couldn't on their own. His face was still deathly pale and when Nick went to cup his cheek, Greg's skin was cold. Grabbing the blonde's hand tightly, he sat down and glanced at the slow beeping heart monitor.

"I'm so sorry, G. I'm sorry I didn't do more to help you. I just assumed you were being stupid or stubborn, but I should've known better. I should've known that wasn't like you. You were struggling…hurting and held that on your shoulders for days. I should've trusted you, man and I shouldn't have been so cruel with you earlier. I was being a huge ass. I just hope you can forgive me. And in order for you to do that, you're gonna have to wake up soon." _Please wake up, Greggo._

**Two Weeks Later**

It had been an exhausting fourteen days and Greg still had yet to wake up from his coma. He was looking small and so fragile that one touch was sure to shatter him to pieces. He had been taken off the ventilator a few days back and the swelling in his brain had progressively gone down, but nothing else changed. Nick only left his side three times and that was because he was forced by Catherine to go home before he ended up passing out.

It was around seven in the morning and Grissom and Catherine had sent Nick home an hour ago when they finished their shift.

"What if he never wakes up, Gil," Catherine whispered, stroking Greg's pale face.

"He's going to wake up. He knows we need him here."

Catherine nodded, pursing her lips and staring down at the unconscious man. "Greg, Hun, we're not mad. Just please wake up to let us know you're okay." As a mother, she knew mostly that the reason Greg wasn't waking up was because he was scared he would get punished for what he did. It was the same thing with Lindsay when she knew she was in trouble and wouldn't come out of her room. "Wake up," she whispered. She didn't like Greg like this; quiet, motionless and covered in bruises. He should be out there being a CSI and solving crimes, hanging out with his best friends and feeling safe. But they had all turned on him, assuming that he stole the evidence and not really thinking twice about the why. Greg was just a kid.

"Cath," Grissom suddenly spoke. The blonde looked up and saw him staring at Greg intently.

"What? What's going on?"

"I think I saw his fingers move. Greg?"

Catherine sat up, watching to see if Greg's face would show some emotion. And finally, his forehead scrunched up a little and a slight, hoarse moan slipped from between his lips.

"Greg, sweetie, it's okay. You're safe now; it's Catherine and Grissom."

The blonde's eyes blinked open warily and he tiredly looked at them. His fever was still pretty high so they didn't know if he was completely lucid or not.

"Greg?" Catherine said softly.

"C-Cath," Greg replied, barely over a whisper. "M's-sorry. Gris…p-please…please don't f-fire me. Swear…didn't…didn't want to…s-steal…evidence." His breathing came out in short panicked wheezes and the monitors began beeping rapidly.

"Greg-"

"D-Don't…want to…go to…jail."

"Greg!" Grissom repeated. "You're not going to jail, you're not getting fired, and you're not in trouble. We know everything. We found the evidence on your bed when we processed your apartment. We understood why you did it."

"Calm down, Greg," Catherine soothed, rubbing the man's arm. "Deep breaths."

Greg closed his eyes and breathed deeply in and out a few times. His body relaxed and the beeping slowed down. "W-Who…was it?"

Grissom sighed. "His name is Mark Aarons; he was our victim's stalker ex-boyfriend. She had a restraining order against him, even. He's going away for a very long time."

"Finished…case?"

"Yes, we did…a week ago."

Greg frowned. "What?"

"You've been in a coma for two weeks; the doctor wasn't sure when you'd wake up. It was pretty touch and go for a while since you had a bleed in your brain."

Greg looked terrified until Catherine eased him. "But you're okay now."

"Get some sleep, Greg," Grissom added softly.

Greg pressed his lips together, processing the fact that he almost died, before sinking into the pillows and letting his eyelids dip close. Seconds later, his breaths became even and deep. Catherine smiled sadly and squeezed Greg's arm. She still couldn't believe all this happened; from when Nick called her to say Greg was in a coma, to interrogating Mark and hearing him confess that if Greg didn't do what he was told, he'd kill him and the rest of the team, to now. It had all gone by so slowly; excruciatingly slow. Greg had been dealing with the burden of stealing evidence for nearly a week and no one noticed. How different were they all going to be? How different was Greg going to be?

"He's gonna be fine, Catherine," Grissom said.

She sighed. "I hope you're right."

The next time Greg woke up, he was a little more lucid, but still very tired.

"Greg?"

The blonde rubbed his eyes and blearily looked up at the shape sitting near him.

"Nick?" He coughed before scanning the room. He was still in the hospital, so it was no dream he had.

"Hey buddy," the Texan grinned. When Catherine had called to let him know Greg had woken up, he was happier than he had been in weeks. He had rushed over immediately and waited for five hours before the blonde's brown eyes started to flicker open. "How are you feeling?"

"W-Where's Cath and…and Grissom."

"They left a while ago…now you're stuck here with me."

Greg smiled a little, sitting up on his elbows and pushing himself higher onto the pillows.

"Are you feeling okay?" Nick repeated. It was a wonder that Greg had no brain damage and no memory loss, however Nick was grateful for that.

Greg shrugged. "Head kind of hurts…so does my body."

"Yeah…that guy beat you up pretty bad…not to mention you were walking around with an infected stab wound for three days that you didn't tell anyone about."

Greg sighed, staring down at his hands. "I know…I'm sorry I didn't tell anyone and that I was so secretive…and clingy. I was just scared, Nick. I was scared he was going to kill me…or kill you or anyone else on the team. He made it clear after he attacked me in my house after I left the crime scene."

"He what?" Mark had only confessed to threatening Greg, stabbing him and beating him up before he was caught…he never said anything else.

"He found out where I lived…I don't know how but…when I left the crime scene, I went home and he was there. He kicked me down and put his…put his hands around my throat." Greg brought his hand up to his neck, remembering vividly the tightness and his air being cut off immediately. "I couldn't breathe. I thought he was going to kill me right there because he saw me talking to you. He was afraid that I said something to you." A tear trailed down his face and Nick grabbed the kid's hand in comfort. "After that, I was afraid to go back to my house. I knew if he knew where I lived, he could easily find your place, but I just…I felt safer with you. With anyone; I didn't want to be alone because he would get to me if I was. I didn't want to steal that evidence; it made me physically sick just thinking about it…and the fact that I had a severely infected stab wound. I wanted to tell you Nick, I really wanted to tell you, but I didn't want anyone to get hurt. I'm sorry for being such a burden to you and for never leaving you alone. I-"

"Greg stop, you're not the one who should be apologizing. None of this is your fault. I should've done something about it…but yelling at you like I had was uncalled for. That wasn't what you needed. You needed a friend, a big brother. I'm sorry, buddy."

Greg sighed. "Well, I didn't exactly make it easy for you, but thanks for being there for me when you were."

Nick smirked, placing his hand on Greg's shoulder. "You're welcome, bud."

"So now what?" Greg huffed.

"I mean you just woke up from a coma not too long ago. I think the doctor is gonna want to keep you here for a few more days just to make sure everything's okay. Then, when they discharge you, you can stay with me."

Greg frowned. "You're not tired of me being around?"

"Of course not. I only said those things because I was annoyed as to why you weren't telling me anything. Plus your apartment is still a mess from when you were attacked and it didn't exactly get better when we processed it. Sorry."

"It's fine. I've been meaning to rearrange it anyways."

Nick smirked. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Me too. I don't remember much of what happened, though. I think I called you and then Mark came out of nowhere with a bat and started hitting me. I lost count of how many times he hit me, but I blacked out at some point. After that, it's all blank."

Nick pursed his lips. "I got to your apartment just in time. He was trying to drown you. I beat the shit out of him, though."

Greg chuckled, lying back on the pillows. "Good." He felt ten times better than he had in weeks. He couldn't wait for things to go back to normal. Though being a CSI, his life would never be normal again.

**FIN**

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	29. In Those 60 Minutes

**In Those 60 Minutes**

_**Prompt for: meggysmeg: **__**What if Greg was late into work by an hour or so, he then collapsed in the middle of the crime lab because he was shot or something?**_

**Enjoy!**

Nick glanced down at his watch and rolled his eyes. Greg was over an hour late and they had a scene to get to in ten minutes. He had tried calling the kid, but it kept going to voicemail and Nick didn't know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Well, in what world would it be good? It hadn't been long since Greg had been beaten nearly to death and then almost charged with Demetrius James' murder and he was surprised at how quickly the kid bounced back. However, he was still pretty sensitive and jumpy and he wasn't the same joking guy that he used to be, but he was getting better. Or so he thought. Biting the inside of his cheek, he was getting kind of pissed off. Greg had been a CSI for two years and he should be acting like one. He should be on time, he should be prepared and he should be…

"What the…"

Nick stopped his internal rant when he saw Greg walk- or more like limp- in from the front door, hunched, arm wrapped tightly around his stomach and a look of agony on his strangely pale face even though it seemed like he was trying to hide it. Frowning, he followed the man as he shuffled towards the locker room.

"Greg?" Nick spoke, when he caught up with him. The blonde was resting against the locker, sweating, visibly trembling and breathing heavily. "You okay, bud?"

Greg's eyes flickered open and he forced a smile. "Y-Yeah. I'm good. Probably just a stomach bug or something."

Nick's forehead creased even more. He hardly believed the kid's lie; Greg was never really good at it to begin with. "Is that why you were late?" Why was Greg still holding his stomach?

Greg wiped his brow and stiffly open up his locker, pain shooting up his side and resisting the urge to cry out in pain. "Yeah. S-Sorry. I've been throwing up all day and only fell asleep a few hours before my shift." But that's the story that he decided to make up on the drive over, when really he was bleeding…badly. He was actually going to be on time for work when someone ambushed him outside his apartment. Miraculously, he managed to get away and suddenly he was being chased by four people. Where the other three came from, he had no idea…he just ran. After nearly five minutes of running in the unpopulated neighborhood, he stupidly took the wrong turn and he was cornered in the alley. They found and shot him, leaving him for dead. And he really thought he was dead, but then he found himself aching terribly and staring up at the night sky. He hadn't bothered to look at his wounds since they didn't hurt and he assumed that it was just a graze he could easily patch up, plus he was super late for work. However, the walk back to his car and the drive to the lab seemed to make things worse, because the pain became extremely noticeable and his side felt wet and sticky. He was definitely bleeding more and he couldn't let anyone see. He was a CSI now- a two year _fresh_ CSI- and he couldn't screw it up. He had to breathe and get through the day successfully…then he could maybe go to the hospital. But for now he needed bandages; but Nick was staring at him and he wouldn't leave. If he took the wrappings out now, there would be questions and he didn't have the patience or a clear, non-pounding head to be doing that. The longer he waited though, the more lightheaded and nauseous he became. But he had to say something before the Texan got _really_ suspicious.

"Nick, I'm fine."

"Greg, even if you were telling the truth, you look like crap and should be at home resting."

Greg rolled his eyes. "No, I need to be working. It's the only w-way I'll be a good CSI." He screwed up his solo once, nearly getting himself killed in the process, he couldn't let the team down again. Greg blinked a few times, trying to push past the dizziness. Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself off the lockers and swayed a little. When he stepped forward, Nick blocked the exit so he couldn't leave. "C-Can you let me through? I'm already an hour late, I don't need to be any later." He tried to walk by, but Nick grabbed his arm that was covering the gunshot wound and he yelped a little at the sudden force.

"N-Nick, let…let go of me."

"Not until you tell me what the hell is going on!"

"There's n-nothing going on!" Greg gasped, the pain flaring up. "Why can't you just let me go?!" He ripped his arm out of Nick's grasp and he lost his balance, slamming up against the doorframe. The burning intensified and he knew the jig was up, because he could taste vomit spewing out of his mouth.

Nick watched in horror as Greg shouted in pain after he fell against the wall. Greg immediately puked and then his legs folded underneath him, collapsing lifelessly into the hallway. He was glued to the spot; what the hell just happened? The rest of the time went by in a blur, he went to Greg's aid, trying to wake him up and then noticing the huge, dark red spot growing on the blonde's side. When he pulled back Greg's jacket, he gasped…the kid had been shot. He shouted for an ambulance and ten minutes later, Greg was loaded onto a gurney and being wheeled down the hallway towards the front, Nick close by. That's when he began to regain consciousness.

"Greggo?" Nick spoke worriedly when he saw the man's eyes sluggishly peel open. "Greg, can you hear me?" The blonde scanned the area, his breath puffing against the oxygen mask he had over his mouth. Nick grabbed Greg's hand, squeezing his fingers tightly. "I'm here, bud, don't worry. Just hang on."

Greg moaned, feeling sick, but also weird and floaty. He couldn't remember what happened. At first he was yelling at Nick and now he was moving somewhere. He could hear voices passing in and out of his head, one unfamiliar, saying something about losing a lot of blood and the other having some sort of accent. Glancing to his right, Nick's face swam into view.

"Ni-Nick?"

The Texan smiled. "Hey man, you're gonna be okay."  
"Nick," he said again, trying to fight unconsciousness. The man needed to hear this before he did. "Nick…s-someone…someone tried to…to kill me."

"What?" The older man replied, utterly shocked. "What are you talking about?"

"T-They tried to…to kill me," he said, losing the battle.

"Who, Greg."

He couldn't stay awake much longer.

"Greg, who?"

Nick's voice was so far away and as much as he wanted to answer, he was so goddamn tired. His eyes fluttered close and he welcomed the cool darkness once more.

**Six Hours Later**

"Greg?" Nick sat forward in his chair when he saw Greg's fingers twitch. It had been hours after the kid had collapsed and he was finally waking up. It was a miracle that he was okay since he lost a lot of blood. It was an even bigger miracle that he had been walking around to begin with, with a bullet in his side. The doctor said that there was an infection and he would be in pain and have a fever for a while, but he was going to recover and that's all that Nick wanted to hear. Though Greg wasn't going to be happy he was in the hospital for the second time in the duration of a month and a half; he wasn't happy either. The kid didn't need this…he shouldn't have to look over his shoulder every time he walked in public.

Sara, Warrick and Catherine were getting coffee, while he, Brass and Grissom were waiting for the young CSI to wake up. He wasn't sure if Greg was being delusional due to the extensive blood loss or if he was being serious about someone trying to kill him, but he wasn't taking any chances. "Greg, can you hear me?" He placed his hand over the blonde's and squeezed it. Finally, his eyes blinked open and surveyed the room before looking at Nick.

"W-What…what…" Greg spoke hoarsely before clearing his throat. "Where am I?"

"You're at the hospital," Grissom said. "Do you remember what happened?"

Greg sighed, already beginning to feel his energy waning. He didn't even know he had closed his eyes until someone shook him gently.

"Greg, this is important," Nick said after he reluctantly prevented the man from falling back asleep. "You said someone tried to kill you."

Greg's eyes went wide as everything came rushing back at him. He was ambushed, chased, shot and left for dead. They thought he was dead so they just left him there. But when they found out he wasn't-

"Greg! Greggo, take it easy man. Deep breaths."

His chest was heaving and he was feeling lightheaded from hyperventilating. When he did start freaking out? "N-Nick…"

"You're okay, buddy."

"Why don't you just tell us what happened." Grissom added.

"Start from the beginning," Brass said in an oddly comforting voice. "And take all the time you need. We'll get these sons of bitches."

Greg wiped his eyes and nodded, trying to force himself not to give into the good drugs and fall asleep, though the pain was starting to come back so he wanted to make this a quick as possible. "I was…I was coming out of my apartment and this guy attacked me. I got away and started…started running. Then three other guys…they came out of nowhere and they were all…they were all chasing me. I took a wrong turn and I was backed in a corner. They shot me and I think I must've passed out, because…because the next thing I knew, I was lying in a bunch of trash bags, alive, and they were gone."

"Why didn't you go straight to the hospital, man?" Nick said. "You almost died."

"I'm sorry I just…I didn't want to let you guys down. I just became a CSI not that long ago and then screwed up the one solo that I got, I was just…I was afraid you'd fire me. I was afraid of disappointing you guys again."

Grissom pursed his lips sadly, sharing a look with the Texan. "You could never let me down, Greg. You've proved yourself to be an exceptional CSI a long time ago. I'm more disappointed that you didn't take care of yourself first. But I'm glad you're okay."

"Me too," Nick smiled, patting Greg's arm. "Just don't pull a stunt like that again or else."

Greg smirked tiredly and nodded. "I won't, I promise."

"Alright," Brass continued. "So what did these guys look like?"

"They were all black males," Greg answered, trying to remember his attackers' description. "Two were heavyset and the other two were really tall. I didn't really get a good look at their faces due to the fact I was running for my life. I'm sorry…that's not much help is it."

"You did good, Greg," Brass smiled. "Do you remember where you were? Where they shot you?"

Greg hesitated, trying to think past the feverish fog in his mind. "I ran a block from my apartment…I think I passed Barb's Hardware Store and then I turned into what I thought was an alley that would take me to another street so I could lose them. That was a big mistake."

"I'll send my guys over to comb the area," Brass said.

"I'll let Catherine know so she can meet us there," said Grissom. "I also want security outside the door and the hospital. Nick, stay with Greg and keep an eye out. Once they figure out Greg is still alive, they'll try again. This definitely was organized."

Nick nodded. He wasn't planning on leaving anyways. He glanced at his friend and saw that he looked terrified. He grabbed the blonde's hand and clasped it tightly. "You're gonna be okay, buddy. Nothing's gonna happen. I won't let it."

Greg smiled feebly, wiping his nose before sinking back into the pillows. He had felt a warm tingling in his body and he knew, from the many times of being stuck in the hospital, that morphine had just been pushed into his system. "I'm tired."

"You can sleep now, Greg," Grissom sighed.

The blonde's eyes dipped close and his body relaxed. Nick rubbed his mouth and looked at Grissom as the older man stood up. "We're gonna get these guys, right?"

"We're not gonna stop until we do."

~+CSI+~

The whole team, excluding Nick and Greg, had found the alley where Greg had been shot. Grissom and Brass were questioning people around the area, Catherine was tracing Greg's steps from where he started running and Warrick and Sara were dealing with the crime scene. There wasn't much to process though, except for finding a casing, that most likely would match the bullet that had been removed from Greg's body during surgery, and some blood splattered against the wall and a puddle of it also on the ground. Warrick clenched his teeth in anger at the thought of someone hurting Greg _again_. Why couldn't the kid catch a break? First the beating now this? What the hell did Greg ever do wrong?

"How the hell are we supposed to find these people if this is all the evidence we can find?"

Sara sighed. "I have no idea. Hopefully we can find something; whoever tried to kill Greg probably found out by now that he's not dead."

"At least he's got Nick with him; the guy would murder someone before he let anyone hurt Greg."

Sara smiled, snapping a picture of the blood. All of a sudden, Catherine came running towards them and she looked happy.

"What? What is it?" Sara said.

"There are security cameras down where Greg was being chased."

Warrick smirked and pulled out his phone. "I'll call Archie." They finished up and brought what they had back to the lab.

Meanwhile, back at the hospital, Greg wasn't doing too well. His infection was getting worse and his fever was climbing; he was delusional and Nick hated to see the kid like that…so out of it. The nurse had given him a bowl of cold water and a cloth for him to soak and put across the blonde's burning forehead every half hour. And even if Greg had no idea what he was saying or who he even was, Nick spoke to him, hoping that it would make him feel better…safe. Right now, the kid was in a restless sleep and Nick had just put another wet cloth over his forehead. He smirked, brushing back a sweaty blonde strand.

"You know when you said you wanted to become a CSI, I was skeptical. I wanted to believe that you were just joking around. Truth is, back then I didn't want you to become a CSI, I actually hoped you wouldn't go through with it. Don't get me wrong, I know you would've made a great investigator, no doubt and you have. Your love for this job is amazing…I was just scared I guess. I'm supposed to protect you and things like this happening…like the beating, it was exactly what I was afraid of. I hate seeing you like this man, I hate seeing you suffer. You're my best friend…you're my little brother, Greggo." He watched the blonde's chest rise and fall erratically, his breath coming out raspy. Pursing his lips in sympathy, Nick squeezed Greg's shoulder before sighing heavily and glancing up at the clock. He hoped the team was having some luck finding the person responsible. And when they did, he was going tear them apart.

**Two Hours Later**

Nick was dozing in his chair when he felt someone shaking him. He jerked awake, ready to talk to a nurse, comfort Greg or beat the shit out of whoever was about to attack him.

"Nick, easy, it's just me, Warrick."

He blinked open his eyes and blearily glanced up to see the older man standing next to him. He immediately sat up and looked at Greg. Still asleep and still breathing…but still running a fever.

"What time is it?" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Almost four in the morning."

The Texan stretched, his back aching from the uncomfortable position he was sleeping in. He had been sleeping for two hours…he must've been really exhausted. Huffing through his nose, he grabbed the cloth, soaked it and put it back on Greg's forehead.

"How's he doing?" Warrick asked.

"Not better, not worse. What's up?"

"We didn't get much at the crime scene, but it doesn't matter because Catherine got faces off a security camera they all ran by. We also matched the bullet to a gun used in a robbery three years ago."

"Who are they?" Nick replied.

"Nick White, Marcus Ellis, and Tim Barba, all big time offenders. We're gonna need to up the protection on Greg, because…they were hired to kill him."

"What? Hired by who?" Nick snapped, clenching his fists.

"They won't say."

"Son of a bitch, of course they won't."

"You want a crack at them?"

"Love to…but Greg-"

"I'll stay here with him, don't worry. And I'll let you know if his condition changes."

Nick inhaled deeply before nodding. He rubbed his palms against his pants and stood up. "Okay. Thanks 'Rick."

"Go kick those guys' asses."

The Texan smirked, glancing at the slumbering Greg one last time before leaving the room. Warrick sighed and took a seat, flipping on the TV and then turning to Greg.

"We're gonna get these guys, buddy. We're not gonna let anything happen to you again."

The next morning, Greg's fever finally broke and while the nurses were changing the sheets and cleaning the blonde up, Warrick went to grab a quick coffee, figuring Greg would be fine since he still had the guard and the nurses to company him.

Greg peeled his eyes open, feeling achy and warm. He could barely remember what happened, everything fading in and out. He was chased, shot, and collapsed at the lab, after that it was all pretty hazy. Groaning, he looked around the dark room, recalling that he was at the hospital…but he was alone. Light was shining through the blinds so he figured it was daytime.

"N-Nick?" The Texan had been there right? He hadn't been hallucinating? How long had he been sleeping anyways? He didn't know, but what he did know was that he needed to go to the bathroom really badly. Stiffly sitting up, Greg swung his legs over the bed and grasped his I.V. stand, pulling himself to his feet. It took some getting used to and almost falling back down, but he gained control and shuffled to the bathroom. By the time he was finished, he was out of breath, sweating and ready to get back into bed. He washed his hands, dried them and went to open the door. The second he did, Greg gasped in shock; the man standing in front of him was the last person he was expecting. Before he had time to shout out, there was a sharp prick in the side of his neck and almost immediately he felt like he was drowning and the light at the surface faded quickly. His legs went weak and his world went black.

~+C+~

Nick briskly walked down the hall, anxious to see if Greg had gotten better or woke up yet. He hadn't gotten shit out of any of the three men which pissed him off; he really wanted to know who put the hit out on his best friend. When he turned the corner, Nick's heart pounded frantically. The guard was unconscious on the floor. Biting the inside of his cheek, he ran down the rest of the hall and skid into Greg's room. The bed was empty…the entire room was empty.

"Greg?" Near the bathroom, the I.V pole was on the ground, the liquid spilling out from the unoccupied needle. "Oh no. Oh shit."

"Nick, what's going on?" Warrick said as he stepped in the room, coffee in hand.

He spun around angrily. "Where the hell were you!?"

"I was just getting a coffee."

"A fucking coffee!? You were supposed to be watching Greg! Now he's gone!"

Warrick looked at the bed, realizing it was empty. Fuck. "He had nurses here I figured he would be alright for ten minutes."

"Well you figured wrong! God dammit!" Nick ran his fingers through his hair before pulling out his phone. "If he gets hurt, it's your fault and I will never forgive you." He dialed Catherine's number and pushed past Warrick to leave the room. Warrick hated himself right now; Nick was right, he was supposed to be with Greg no matter what until they caught everyone that was responsible for his attack. And now he was missing. What has he done?

While Nick was calling Catherine and Warrick was talking to security and the nurses, a barely conscious Greg was being wheeled down the hall in the basement where it was completely empty. A piece of tape was placed over his mouth, hidden by a surgery mask; tape was also wrapped around his wrists and ankles, but that was also covered by a sheet pulled all the way up to his chin. His face was sheet white and he was hardly breathing due to the fact that he was injected with so much morphine that he was close to overdosing. They were only another hallway away from the emergency exit when Greg's kidnapper heard the Code Red over the intercom, he grew frantic. This wasn't something he was used to…he wasn't used to kidnapping or killing someone. Panicking, he ran down the rest of the hall and once he reached the exit, he brought the sheet over the blonde's head, wrapping him up and slinging him over his shoulder. The second he opened the door, the alarm went off.

"Shit." Figuring the CSI was most likely either too close to death to be saved or already dead, he threw Greg's body in the dumpster and ran off into the distance.

Nick was pacing nervously, watching as Sara and Catherine were looking in Greg's room, trying to find prints if there were any. Grissom was looking through the security tapes and Warrick was still talking to the nurses. The fact that _no one_ saw anything pissed him off. How the hell did no one see someone dragging Greg away against his will…unless he was incapable of struggling. Shuddering, Nick was about to go see if the girls found anything, when an alarm went off.

"What is that?" He said to a security officer.

"That's a fire alarm for an emergency exit." He spoke to a nurse who found out where it was originating from. "It's coming from the basement, left wing."

Nick gasped, sharing a look with Warrick before heading for the stairwell. That had to be Greg's kidnapper. He _needed_ it to be, otherwise, they might never find the kid. He bounded down the stairs, Warrick, Catherine and Sara at his heels and when they reached the basement, they sped to the exit. When they got there, the door was wide open and there was an empty gurney against the wall.

"He must've gone out here," Nick breathed. They filed outside and glanced up and down the alley, finding nothing. "Dammit!" Greg was gone.

Warrick swore, scratching his head when something white caught his eye. It looked like the end of a bedsheet. "Hang on." The dumpster would be a perfect place to discard a body. Nick spun around as Warrick lifted the trash cover. "Oh no."

"What, what is it?" Nick choked. He strode over and looked down to see Greg's head popping out underneath a sheet, eyes closed and his face gray. "Get him out…get him out!"

Nick jumped into the dumpster and lifted the blonde's lifeless body out with the help of Warrick and Catherine. Sara was calling Grissom, telling him to get help fast. They gently laid Greg down, unraveling him from the sheet, removing the mask and all the tape.

"Oh god. Greg?" Nick whispered. Greg's lips were blue and when pressing his finger to the man's cold neck, he could feel that there was an extremely low pulse…but he wasn't breathing. "Greg! Come on, buddy!" Nick could feel the tears welling in his eyes as he grabbed Greg's face in his hands, gently shaking it. "Greg!"

**One Week Later**

Nick rubbed his unshaven face, staring at his best friend who had been in a coma for a week. The cameras had been disabled in the basement, so they had no way of knowing who attempted to kill their colleague- for the second time he might add. They had also been smart enough to wear gloves, because there were no prints on the door. Greg would just have to tell them…if he woke up that is. Whoever it was, they injected Greg with a lethal dose of morphine. He had stopped breathing for six minutes and his heart stopped for two. They almost lost him and the fact that it had been real made everyone sick. And he had refused to leave the kid's side until he woke up; the doctor said it was possible he wouldn't due to the fact he had been without oxygen for so long, but Nick wasn't giving up hope.

"Greggo…please, you gotta wake up. We need you…_I_ need you." He hated this. Greg was so unlucky. The lab explosion, the beating and now someone was out to get him. Thankfully, the person hadn't tried again, mostly because there were cops everywhere and there were two people in the room at all times. They had screwed up once and nearly lost him, they weren't gonna let it happen again. Nick sat back in his chair and sighed heavily. It had been a horrible year. Glancing at his unmoving friend once more and at Catherine who was lightly dozing in the recliner, but would be up at the second she felt there was a threat, before standing up to go to the bathroom. Once he reached the door, however, he heard a small whimper come from the bed. His heart nearly stopped and he spun on his heel, briskly walking back towards the bed.

"Greg?" He grasped the kid's cold hand in both of his. "Greg."

Catherine jerked awake. "Nicky? Is he okay?"

"I think he's waking up." Nick cupped Greg's cheek. "Greggo, its Nick. Wake up, man."

Greg's chapped lips parted weakly and his voice came out small and hoarse. His eyes were still shut, but it looked like he was trying his best to open them.

"N-N'gh. Ni-Nick."

Nick laughed in relief, a smile appearing on his face. "Hey buddy. You gonna open your eyes?"

A tear suddenly made an appearance, dripping from underneath Greg's closed eyelid and dripping down his face. Nick frowned, sharing a worried look with Catherine.

"Greg, Hun? Are you okay?" Catherine said softly. "Are you in pain?"

"W-Where is he?" Greg sobbed.

"Where is who?" Catherine questioned.

"Aaron…J-James."

Nick froze. "What?"

"He's the one…who tried to k-kill me."

**To be continued…**

**A/N: The next prompt for CamilaAlgo is about Aaron James being the suspect so I decided to make this story and that story into one (but basically a two part story) Stay tuned!**

**Next prompt for: ****CamilaAlgo**

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**Reviews are love and inspiration!**


	30. Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold

**Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold**

_**Prompt for: CamilaAlgo:**_

_**You could make one that comes out as a suspect Aaron James? And the rest to your imagination.**_

**Part two!**

**Enjoy!**

**Thanks for all these reviews :)**

Greg fell back asleep after he named his attacker and Nick was nearly speechless. Aaron James, the brother of the recently deceased Demetrius James. He couldn't believe this…well, actually he could. Greg got off free while the James' family lost a son; not that he was saying Greg was guilty, because he sure as hell wasn't. He acted in self-defense, because if he hadn't, the kid probably would be dead. Catherine was out in the hallway calling Brass so they could go on a manhunt for the bastard; Aaron had almost killed Greg, which Nick knew it had been intentional, but he couldn't help but wonder what would've happened had the man had gotten Greg out of the hospital…what he would've done. What the hell were they going to do? Aaron was still out there, planning another way to kill Greg. Nick glanced out the door just as Catherine finished on the phone.

"Okay…thanks Jim." The blonde hung up and came back into the room. "They've gone to James' house. He's not there. His mom said she had no idea where he is, though Brass thinks she could be hiding something."

Nick growled. "Of course; that whole family is a bucket of trouble. For us and for Greg. What are we gonna do?"

"I've talked to the doctor. He wants Greg to remain here for a few more days as a precaution. Then he's gonna need to stay with someone at all times and he's definitely not going back home, though Brass has people watching the apartment in case."

Nick nodded and glanced over at his younger friend and sighed. Catherine pursed her lips sadly. This stuff wasn't supposed to happen, especially to the youngest of the team. He was like the baby and they all were his older family members. They're supposed to protect him from anything and everything. And they would if it was the last thing they did.

**Three Days Later**

Greg was gonna be staying with Nick until they caught Aaron. The Texan helped Greg into his apartment and then sat him down on the couch.

"Ugh…why am I so tired?" Greg moaned, resting his head against the cushions.

Nick smirked. "Seriously. You've been sleeping for a week and a half." He went into the kitchen and poured some orange juice before pouring out a couple pills the doctor prescribed. He returned to the living room and passed it to the blonde.

"So…besides being tired, how are you feeling?"

Greg placed the already half empty glass on the coffee table and shook his head. "I'm scared Nick…I thought this was over. I thought they had _somewhat_ forgiven me. Maybe I really am guilty."

"Greg stop it. Stop saying you're guilty for that kid's death, because you're not. I've told you time and time again that it was self-defense. That's why you won in court. Why can't you believe that?"

"I killed a person, Nick! A human being! Have you ever done that?" Greg choked.

Nick got up from the chair and sat next to his friend on the couch. "Yes I have, man. Pretty much everyone on the team has killed at least one person. It's horrible to admit, I know, but it's true. It comes with the job sometimes even if it sucks…because it does. It's hard the first time…it may be hard the second or third time or maybe all the time. Truth is, after harming another person, it's hard for me to get used to it. I don't think I ever will. It's normal, G, it makes you human." He wrapped his arm around the blonde's back and hugged him. Greg sniffed, wiping his eyes and Nick pressed his lips together in sympathy. "You're gonna be okay, bud. I promise this will be over soon."

Greg bobbed his head before resting it on Nick's shoulder. They sat there for a few minutes before Nick realized the blonde had fallen asleep. Smiling a little, he stood up carefully and gently laid the man down horizontally. Once he lifted Greg's feet onto the couch, Nick grabbed a blanket and draped it over the blonde's form. He rubbed Greg's arm and then went into the kitchen to get a beer before sitting back down and turning on the TV to a football game. He kept the volume down in case he had to hear a threat and also so he wouldn't wake up his friend. Greg had been sleeping a lot, but getting nearly killed twice would probably do that to a person. He just hoped this really_ would _be over soon.

~+CSI+~

Nick jerked awake when he heard glass smashing and a small explosion. He was immediately met with a raging fire that caught onto his curtains, the carpet and the couch…an _empty_ couch. Coughing and placing his arm across his mouth, Nick jumped to his feet. Where the hell was Greg? He glanced over at the now smashed window and a faint whiff of kerosene assaulted his nose beneath the scent of the smoke. _A Molotov cocktail maybe?_ Aaron must have found them…but again, where was Greg?

"Greg!" He choked. "Greg, where are you?!" He prayed nothing bad happened. He cursed himself for falling asleep when he should've been keeping a lookout. "Greg!"

"N-Nick?"

The voice was hard to hear underneath the sound of the crackling fire, but he heard it anyways. It was coming from down the hall; he stumbled over and found Greg hunched and coughing violently into his hand.

"Nick, what's…what's going on?"

He grabbed the kid's arm and led him towards the door. "I don't know, but we have to get out of here fast." He knew that Greg's lungs were a lot weaker than his due to his hospitalization, the overdose, the medications and the slow recovery from his gunshot wound and infection. He didn't need to add smoke inhalation to the list of problems. But when they got to the door, the fire grew and forced them back. Greg leaned into Nick, wheezing fearfully.

"What are we…going to do?" He coughed.

Nick bit the inside of his cheek before rerouting and going for the back where the fire escape was. They had to hurry though because the flames quickly began to consume the apartment. They went into his bedroom and Nick opened the window, letting Greg go out first. As the blonde stepped onto the ramp, Nick could feel the heat and smoke getting closer.

"Hurry up, man!" Greg moved out of the way so Nick could slip through. They both climbed down the ladder and the second they reached the ground, an explosion erupted, knocking them both off their feet. Fire billowed out from the window, glass and cement raining around them. Nick scrambled to his feet and grabbed Greg off of the ground, pulling him away to safety. The blonde coughed and they stared up at the burning building in shock.

"Nick, what the hell just happened?" Greg sniffed, hearing the sirens in the distance.

"I'm guessing Aaron found us," he breathed in disbelief. This guy was relentless and he wouldn't stop until Greg was killed, not caring who got hurt in the crossfires.

"He's gonna kill me, Nick. He's gonna keep doing this until I'm dead. I'm sorry…this is all my fault…you could've gotten k-killed."

"Hey, stop. It's not your fault, okay?" He wrapped his arm around Greg's shoulders. "Come on, let's get to the front."

Ten minutes later found Greg sitting in the back of an ambulance, shivering, draped with a shock blanket and face covered with an oxygen mask. He and Nick both had some shallow cuts and bruises and smoke inhalation, but otherwise okay. The Texan was talking to Catherine and Grissom, refusing an oxygen mask and claiming he was fine. Keeping his surrogate little brother safe was the only thing he cared about.

"What happened, Nicky?"

"I don't…I don't know. One moment Greg and I are sleeping in the living room and the next, the place is on fire. We couldn't get out the front so we had to use the fire escape. We barely got out in time." He glanced over at his friend who was being comforted by Sara, but gazing up at the burning building.

"This is escalating…fast," Catherine sighed, rubbing her forehead.

Grissom nodded. "We have to move him to safe house…it's the only thing we can do until we catch James."

Nick washed a hand down his soot smeared face and sighed before he walked over to Greg and Sara.

"Hey bud," he grinned. "How are you feeling?"

Greg pulled the oxygen mask from his face. "I'm okay…are you okay?"

Nick rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, man."

Greg's eyes flicked over at Grissom. "Is he mad? Grissom?"

Sara and Nick frowned. "Why would he be mad, Greg?" The brunette asked.

"Because this is-"

Nick huffed. "If you say this is your fault one more time, I'm gonna hit you."

"But it is, Nick! If I had never hit and killed his brother, none of this would've happened! You guys wouldn't have to be babysitting me, you'd still have your apartment, and I wouldn't be seen as a vulnerable liability."

"Who said that you were a liability?" Nick asked.

"No one, it's just…it feels that way sometimes…the way everybody looks at me."

"Jesus man. You're not a liability and you are strong; the strongest guy I know. This isn't your fault…you've just had some shitty luck lately. You can't keep bringing yourself down, Greg. We're a family and it's our job to take care of each other no matter what. Okay?"

Greg stared at Nick and Sara for a moment before nodding, putting on the mask again when he felt out of breath. "Okay."

"Good," Nick replied, patting the man's back. He hated when Greg thought so low of himself sometimes. The beating not only physically hurt him, but also mentally. It really brought down his self-confidence. "What I was talking to Grissom about was that he's thinking we should move you to a safe house. At least until we find Aaron and make sure there's no one else trying to kill you, though I'm pretty sure it's just him."

Greg bobbed his head and stared into space for a moment and then removed the mask again. "Now what?"

"Ackers and I are going to bring you to your apartment to grab some things and then we'll head up to the safe house. Sara and I will be taking the first shift, then Warrick and Catherine and then Grissom and Brass. There's going to be guards everywhere, so you'll be safe. Aaron is not gonna get to you again, I promise. We're gonna get him."

Greg smiled weakly. "I know." He glanced up at the diminishing fire and wiped his eyes. He hoped Nick was right. He couldn't live like this anymore. He couldn't live in fear forever.

~+C+~

The first shift at the safe house was pretty laid back; Greg slept most of the time until Sara woke him up for something to eat. When they were finished, he and Nick watched a football game until Greg fell asleep again.

When Warrick and Catherine came in the morning for the second shift, they played a few card games and then went over where they thought Aaron might be. Greg didn't talk much about it, not really wanting to think about some teenager trying to murder him all because he made a small mistake…well, maybe it was a huge mistake, but it was like everyone said…self-defense. So far Aaron hadn't made any attempt to try to come at him, but that didn't mean he wasn't planning to. Greg stared at himself in the bathroom mirror; he looked like crap. There were bags underneath his eyes, scratches and bruises on his pale face. When he removed his shirt, he found that he had gotten skinnier and the area around his healing gunshot wound was still a little red. Sighing, he pulled off the rest of his clothes and got into the shower. He ended up being there for nearly half an hour until he began to prune. He got out, dried off and put on new clothes. When he got downstairs, he was surprised to see not Catherine and Warrick, but Grissom and Brass.

"When did you guys get here?"

Grissom looked up and smirked. "Fifteen minutes ago."

"Thought you might've drowned in there," Brass chuckled

Greg laughed and sat down on the couch while Grissom got up to pour him a cup of tea.

"How are you doing?" The supervisor asked, handing him the drink.

Greg shrugged. He never thought Grissom would be the comforting type. Then again, he was pretty consoling at the hospital when he was beat up. "Okay. Any leads?"

Brass shook his head. "Nothing yet. But we'll get him, Greg. Just hang in there."

"I'm trying." He gazed out the window and wished everything could go back to normal. He didn't know how long he could try anymore.

He went to bed not long after, hoping it was all a dream…even though he knew it wasn't.

**5 Hours Later**

Brass jerked from his light doze when he heard a crash come from down the hall. He shared a quick look with Grissom who was already up with his gun. They ran down to Greg's room just in time to see Aaron dragging a slightly struggling Greg out the smashed window. The bars that used to be covering the window had been ripped from the building, attached to a rope that was tied to a red truck.

"Aaron James!" Brass shouted, raising his gun. "Let him go!"

A gun suddenly appeared against Greg's temple.

"Put the gun down, Aaron!" Grissom shouted.

"No! _You_ put your guns down or I'll blow his brains out!" Aaron snapped, tightening his grip around the blonde's neck.

"You don't have to do this," Grissom replied.

"If I go down, he might as well go down with me. He killed my brother; he deserves to die." He pressed the muzzle harder against Greg, causing the younger man to whimper.

Grissom sighed and then bobbed his head at Brass. "Okay…okay." They put their guns down. "Greg, we're gonna get you back, alright? Just be strong."

Greg looked like he was trying hard not to cry, but he nodded.

"Oh you'll find him alright," Aaron smirked. "Dead face down in a gutter." With that, he pulled the CSI out the window and towards the truck, gun still at Greg's temple. Brass and Grissom watched helplessly as the vehicle drove away and disappeared around the corner.

"Son of a bitch," Brass growled.

Grissom ran his fingers through his hair. Nick's wasn't gonna be happy about this.

~+CSI+~

Nick pushed past the officers and other CSIs crowding the yard to get to the safe house. Only it hadn't been safe. He had been woken up by Warrick, where he was staying until he found a new place, to hear that Greg had been kidnapped. How the fuck could he have been taken?! _No_ _one_ should've known about it; _no one_ should've known where Greg was, but he was found anyways. This was Grissom's fault; they should've been watching him better. Why the fuck weren't they watching him better?! He stormed into the building and immediately went up to Grissom.

"What the hell, Gris!"

"Nicky calm down," Catherine said, placing her hand on his chest. "It wasn't his fault. Aaron ripped the bars off the window."

"And you just let him go? You stood there and let him get taken!?"

"He had a gun to his head, Nick," Brass chipped in. "Aaron was going to blow his brains out if we tried to step in."

Nick held back a retort, turning away from them and running a hand down his face. "Well, now what?"

"We're gonna find him," Catherine said. "Brass, you said you got the license plate number?"

"Yeah," the captain replied. "Hopefully it's not a stolen car, but my guys are running it now."

Nick let out a shaky breath. "Okay…okay."

"Let's go back to the lab and figure this out," Sara said, coming out of the room where Greg had been kidnapped from. "A couple witnesses down the street almost got hit by a red truck heading east, so we're gonna see if there are any cameras down that way."

Nick bit the inside of his cheek and looked into the room. It was a mess. Broken glass and plaster everywhere; he should've been there. And now Greg was who knows where with Aaron whose intent was killing him. The Texan was terrified. Were they gonna get the kid back alive?

* * *

Greg moaned as he awoke to a pounding head. There was a nauseatingly sweet scent lingering in his nostrils and he recognized it as chloroform. Moaning again, he tried to move his arms when he found that they were bound tightly above his head…that's when he realized he was lying down and his legs were tied as well.

"What the hell?"

"It's about time you woke up," a voice said out of nowhere. Greg tried to look around, but he couldn't crane his neck far enough. "I was starting to get bored."

"Aaron…p-please. Just…just let me go. I didn't…I didn't mean to kill your brother."

"You didn't kill him!" Aaron shouted, appearing by his side and getting into his face. "You _murdered_ him!"

Greg's chest heaved. "I'm sorry."

"Oh yeah…you will be _very_ sorry."

Aaron disappeared for a moment before returning a moment later with a folder in his hand. "You know what this is?" He spat. He didn't wait for Greg to respond. "This is my brother's autopsy report."

"H-How," Greg squeezed his eyes shut to stop feeling nauseous. "How did you get that?"

"Doesn't matter. What matters is that I know how he died…and it's exactly how you're gonna die. I'm actually glad my recent attempts have been unsuccessful, because this will be much more satisfying."

"W-What are you t-talking about?"

"Every single injury you gave him, I'm giving to you. Every broken bone, every laceration, every bruise, you're gonna have until you're dead. And I'm gonna make you suffer, Mr. CSI, so I hope you're ready."

Greg pulled against the ropes again, becoming frantic. "P-Please…don't do this."

Aaron suddenly had a hammer in his hand and glanced at the paper. Greg began to sob, knowing what was going to happen next.

"Alright let's see…DJ had five broken ribs so let's start with that." He cut Greg's shirt in half to expose his torso. Without warning, he swung the hammer at Greg's body, smashing rib after rib after rib. Greg cried the second the metal met his bone and then Aaron got annoyed when he didn't stop, stuffing a rag into his mouth. Greg's body trembled violently, starting to go numb with pain. Aaron chuckled at the blonde's misery.

"This is only the beginning, Sanders. The real fun hasn't even started yet. Next, sternum and collarbone fracture."

Greg moaned in protest, but unable to move since his ribs burned so much. He closed his eyes and waited for the agony. It came quickly and the throbbing radiated through his whole body. His eyes began to the roll to the back of his head, but he was immediately slapped across the cheek.

"You can sleep when you're dead," Aaron growled and then looked at the paper. "Next, ruptured spleen."

Greg's head rolled on the slab he was laying on, praying for sweet release. He caught a glimpse of the silver knife Aaron had in his hand before it plunged into his side. He let out a muffled yelp, hot tears running down his face. He could feel the warm blood gushing out of his fresh wound and he knew he couldn't survive another dose of blood loss. It had only been a few weeks since he had been shot. He already began to feel cold. He could hear Aaron chuckling and naming off the next injury; this was a complete nightmare. Through the haze, he could make out Aaron saying punctured lung. Shit, this was going to hurt.

"Now I don't want to kill you yet, so don't move."

The blonde closed his eyes; he could feel the tip of the blade pushing against the skin on his chest. Aaron wanted him to suffer…slowly.

"J-Just…d-do…it," he gasped. The faster the knife stabbed him, the less it would hurt.

"No…I'm gonna do it slowly, just like how DJ died." And he did.

Greg shivered, feeling the cold metal slip into his body and perforated his lung. He inhaled sharply; it was hard for him to breathe, tasting blood in his mouth and even worse, as he began to fade in and out, he could feel Aaron's meaty hand around his neck.

"Last but not least, he suffocated. His throat swelled up until he took his last breath during his surgery."

Greg wheezed, trying to fight it off, but he was too weak. His lungs ached…yearning for air; he could no longer feel the pain in his stab wounds or broken bones. He was dying…and all he could do was hope that the team would find him before it was for good this time.

**Forty-Five Minutes Earlier**

"Archie, have you found anything?" Nick asked nervously.

"Not yet," the computer tech replied, trying to find Aaron's red truck on the traffic cams. He looked up at Nick who was biting his nails. "We're gonna find him."

"I know…I know. Just let me know when you find something."

"I will."

Nick sighed. "Thanks." He left for the layout room.

"How are you doing, Nicky?" Catherine smiled sadly.

He shook his head. "Not good. I can't stop thinking about what Aaron is doing to him right now. I mean…Gris mentioned that Aaron told him we would only find Greg when he was dead. I don't think I'll be able to handle that."

"Don't think that way, Nick. He's gonna to be alive when we find him and he's gonna joke around like he normally does. Just keep up hope."

"I am. Have you got anything?"

"Prints on the windowsill and the bars that were over the window. Obviously those come back to Aaron. We know what car he's driving and we've put out a BOLO."

"And we've just got a hit on it," Warrick said with a grin, entering the room. "Turns out Aaron isn't such a smart person and he parked his truck outside the old candy corn factory in Henderson. However it's twenty-five minutes away."

"Do we have enough time to get a chopper?" Catherine suggested.

"No, but Brass already sent SWAT and has people ready to make a path on the streets."

"Good. Nick, go round up the others. Let's gets get our kid back."

~+CSI+~

The second that their Denali's screeched to a stop outside the factory, Nick and the others jumped right out, guns at the ready. The red truck was still parked and SWAT and Henderson Police were already there, ready to burst through the doors.

"Alright, we're talking Aaron dead or alive," Brass said softly. "And our main goal," he glanced at Nick who was getting anxious to go in. "Get Greg Sanders out…_alive_. On three: one, two…" he mouthed three and they busted down the door. They remained quiet when they saw no sign of Aaron or Greg and stealthily made their way inside, splitting up, some going upstairs, downstairs, and down the hallways. Nick was breathing heavily, gun shaking in his hand; he was terrified at what he was going to find. Was Greg going to be alive? Dying? Already dead? He shook his head; he couldn't think like that. Greg was going to be fine. He, Warrick and Grissom traveled down a hallway filled with dusty boxes and wooden boards. At the end, there was an opening and they saw someone looking exactly like Aaron walking past…and he was carrying something in his arms. Nick squinted, running faster; it was a tarp and he had a feeling that Greg was rolled up inside it. That just made him super nauseous.

"Aaron James!" He barked. "Stop right there!"

The man froze before dropping the bundle and making a mad dash towards the nearest exit. They all ran faster, Grissom shouting into the radio that they were in pursuit. Once they reached the end of the hallway, Nick slid to his knees next to the tarp bundle and began to unravel it. Grissom kept on running after Aaron while Warrick stayed with Nick, calling for the medics to come in. Frantically, Nick unrolled the tarp until Greg's severely pale face appeared.

"Oh god." This couldn't be happening. He pulled back the rest of the covers and gasped. Greg's entire upper body was covered in blood and bruises…literally everywhere. There almost wasn't an inch of regular skin that was showing. There was an exceptionally large bruise around the blonde's neck and it angered Nick to know that Aaron most likely strangled Greg.

"Greg?" He choked, stroking the man's cold cheek. His lips were blue and his chest wasn't moving. "Greggo?" He pressed his fingers against Greg's swollen neck, closing is eyes and waiting for the pulse to beat against him…but nothing came. "Oh no," he shuddered. He went for Greg's chaffed wrist, hoping to find something there. But there wasn't. Greg's heart wasn't beating, why wasn't it beating? He had to be imagining this, right?

"Nick, what's wrong?"

"He's not…he's dead Warrick," Nick whispered, his bottom lip trembling. "He's so cold. 'Rick."

"What?! Where are those damn medics?!"

Nick put his hand on top of Greg's chest, over his quiet heart. It was over…he failed. He failed to protect his kid. "We were too late. We were too fucking late!" Nick started to sob. His best friend was gone, his _brother._ He couldn't move…all he could do was cry. He then grabbed the blonde's curled hand and squeezed it. Warrick bowed his head in silence, but inside he was raging; he couldn't wait to get his hands on Aaron, because he was feeling murderous at the moment. He watched Nick lean forward, resting his head in his knees, his body trembling with sobs. He couldn't believe this was-

All of a sudden, out of nowhere, Greg inhaled hungrily and his eyes snapped open, flicking around wildly. Nick shot up in surprise, at loss for words.

"G-Greg? Oh my god. Warrick get the medics here! Now! Greg? Can you hear me man?" He carefully brought the younger CSI into his arms. "Greggo."

The blonde's eyes flickered open and he began weakly gasping. "Ni-Ni-Nick?"

Nick grinned. "Hey bud."

Greg let his eyes wander around, before landing back on the Texan. "Aaron?"

"He can't hurt you anymore, Greg."

Tear slipped from the corner of Greg's eyes. "I…I t-thought you guys weren't coming…I was s-so scared, Nick. I t-tried to hold on, but…I was weak. I'm…I'm s-sorry."

"Greg, shh, you're not weak."

"H-Hurts…so…much," the blonde wheezed, weakly gripping Nick's sleeve.

"I know, buddy, I know; the paramedics are gonna be here soon and they're gonna pump you with the good drugs, just hang on. It's over man."

Greg smirked. "Good." And then his body sagged as he passed out. Nick sighed heavily, looking up and praying Warrick would be back soon with help. He glanced back down, brushing the blonde strands of hair from Greg's forehead. "You're gonna be okay, G. It's all over now."

~+C+~

Nick paced the waiting room nervously. The ambulance ride had, thankfully, been uneventful besides the fact that Greg was having a hard time breathing and they needed to shove a tube down his throat. It had been nearly two and a half hours since Greg was wheeled out back and he wanted answers.

"Nick," Warrick said, returning from outside. "They caught Aaron."

The Texan sighed in relief. "Thank god."

"The others are on their way right now. How are you doing?"

"Impatient. I don't know what happened; one second Greg's heart isn't beating, the next he's talking to me. And how long was he like that…apparently long enough for Aaron to think he was dead." He scrubbing his mouth.

"He's gonna be okay, man. It's Greg, he bounces back from everything. Look how fast he got over the beating."

"He didn't though," Nick sighed.

Warrick frowned, forcing Nick to sit. "What are you talking about?"

"He made me promise not to tell anyone. He probably even wasn't gonna tell me until it was too late, but…I caught him."

"Nick, what the hell are you talking about?"

The Texan sniffed, wiping his eyes. "He tried to kill himself."

"Holy shit. When?"

"Remember when Greg took that week off and I gave Grissom a note from Greg saying he decided to take some more sick leave? And then people were talking about visiting him and I said he had gone to see his mom in California…well, he wasn't…he was in the mental ward at the hospital. The beating really damaged him, 'Rick…but the nightmares, the looks he got when people saw him…he just snapped. I was going over to check on him, you know, to see if he wanted company since he hadn't been acting like himself. I let myself in and…I found him hanging from a pipe in his bedroom. He must've done it right before I got in there, because there hadn't been any severe damage. I got him down, we both cried for like ten minutes and then I took him to the hospital. He was lucky, his throat was only a little swollen so the doctors were going to give him Tylenol, but suggested, since it was a suicide attempt, that he should be admitted into the mental ward for a little while."

"Why didn't you tell us man? Why didn't _he_ tell us or at least Grissom?"

"I was still in so much shock and I didn't want to do anything to upset him so I said I wouldn't tell anyone. And I think he was really ashamed at what he had done. The third night I went to see him, he said that he had a moment of weakness and he felt so scared and alone that he felt it was the only way. He knows now that we're all here for him no matter what, but we didn't do much when he returned. We kinda just went on with our lives like nothing happened and Greg was there suffering silently. I hate myself for not doing something sooner. Anyways, when he got out, he was feeling a lot better. He's been seeing a therapist even, though, when I talked to him- the therapist, that is- he said that Greg may never go back to the guy he once was."

Warrick sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Shit. I can't believe we didn't see this."

Nick smiled humorlessly. "Greg's pretty good at hiding things. He only let me in, because I already knew. Sometimes I go back to that day and wonder 'what if.' What if I hadn't gotten there in time or if I never went at all. It still makes me sick just thinking about it. I'm just _terrified_ he's gonna go through it again. That he might try again."

"He's not, because we're _all_ going to be there for him this time. You're just gonna have to tell Grissom what you told me."

"It's not my place to tell," Nick replied.

"Well then you're gonna have to convince Greg to. The others, especially Gris, need to know. This is serious."

"Yeah…I know."

"Mr. Stokes?"

Nick and Warrick glanced up to see Greg's doctor headed over to them.

"Dr. Ryder," Nick breathed. "How is he?"

"Stable, but he's extremely weak and unable to breathe on his own; we've put him into a medically induced coma until he starts to heal. He had a lot of broken bones, particularly his ribs. It looks like someone took a hammer to them."

Nick and Warrick swore inwardly, but let the doctor continue.

"We've performed surgery on his broken sternum, joining the bone together with wires. With his ribs, he's just going to need a lot of rest and pain medication, same with his collarbone fracture. His lung was punctured, but it luckily wasn't too severe, however it was his spleen that got the most damage. He lost a lot of blood and went into shock. Mr. Stokes, I remember you told me his heart had stopped?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it didn't. Shock from the blood loss mixed with the lack of oxygen caused his heart to slow down enough that it seemed like it wasn't beating. Unfortunately we had to remove the spleen, so he'll be more vulnerable to infections. We're not allowing visitors for the next twenty-four hours; just until he becomes stronger. Like I said, a lot of bed rest is the key to a fast recovery."

"So he's going to be okay?" Nick asked.

Dr. Ryder smiled. "Yes, he's going to be just fine. If I were you, I'd go home and rest, freshen up and then come back in twenty-four hours, then we'll go from there."

Warrick sighed and shook the man's hand. "Thank you."

They parted ways and Warrick led Nick out of the hospital. "You okay, man?"

Nick sighed heavily. "Yeah. I'm just glad he's gonna be okay."

"Me too. Wait here, I'll go get the car and tell the others the news."

"Thanks." Once Warrick left, Nick turned and looked back into the hospital. He desperately wanted to see for himself if Greg was okay, but he knew he had to wait so he wouldn't make his condition worse. Plus he was pretty exhausted; he couldn't remember the last time he slept. "I'll be back, kid, don't worry."

**48 Hours Later**

His mind was fuzzy and his body ached like he had been hit by a truck. Greg swallowed tersely, feeling stiff and his throat extremely dry. He suddenly remembered what happened and why he was hurting so much. Aaron James. The man had tortured him…wait, was he still torturing him? He _was_ still lying down. He began to hyperventilate, fearful he was going to get hit with a hammer again. He let out a short whimper when he felt a gentle hand on his arm.

_"Greg?"_

He became more agitated and then came to his senses that, that wasn't Aaron's voice.

_"Greggo, can you hear me?"_

Only one person called him that. Sluggishly, he peeled open his eyes and blinked; he was no longer in a dark room, strapped down to a table, he was in a bright room, laying down in a comfortable bed. Instead of Aaron being on his right, it was…Nick. He relaxed, but still felt a little on edge. He couldn't remember if they had caught Aaron or not.

"Don't worry, Greg. Aaron is gonna be behind bars for a very long time," Nick grinned, reading the blonde's mind. The man's face was still pretty blurry and Greg rubbed his eyes until they focused.

"Hey," Nick spoke, resting his hand on top of Greg's. He had a lot of bandages; thick ones wrapping around both his wrists from where the ropes chaffed his skin, more swathed around his torso and up all the way to his chest along with a thinner one around his neck. He still looked really pale and weary, but the breathing tube had been taken out a few hours ago along with taking him out of the coma. The doctor, along with the rest of the team, were pleased on how fast he was recovering. Unfortunately, Nick was still worried Greg would relapse; become depressed and…hurt himself. No, Warrick was right, they weren't going to let that happen. "How are you doing?"

"Okay, I guess," he smiled a little. "I have the worst luck don't I."

Nick snorted a laugh. He was relieved Greg was already joking around. "You could say that again, buddy. But you're safe now."

The smile fell from Greg's face. "Am I? W-What if this happens again, Nick? I can't go through this a third time…I'm barely recovering from the first. I'm scared…I'm really scared. I know that sounds pathetic-"

"No, it doesn't," Nick interrupted. "It's not pathetic; I felt the exact same way after I was buried alive. I was scared to go out there alone, you know? I was afraid some other guy who has a grudge on me or any CSI is gonna kidnap and try to kill me again. I worry about that nearly every day and I don't blame you for being worried either. But it's what keeps us alert, on our feet to be ready for anything. I'm your big brother, Greg, and I swear to you that I will never let anything like this happen again." He squeezed Greg's hand tightly and smiled. "You're gonna be okay. I just…the last time you were hurt…when you got beaten up, you weren't you. I'm not judging or anything, but do you remember what it led to?"

Greg looked down. He knew exactly what Nick was talking about. When he had tried to commit suicide. It wasn't one of his finest moments and he would always regret and be ashamed of it, but he would never do that again…never scare anyone like that again.

"I don't want it to happen again, Greg."

"It won't, Nick, I promise."

"Good, because you have the team. We're all a family and you can tell us anything that's bothering you. However…you're gonna have to tell Grissom about your stay in the hospital a month ago, you know that right?"

Greg sighed. "Yeah…I know." It was only a matter of time when the incident would come out. He yawned, tautly sinking back into the pillows.

Nick smirked. "I'm proud of you, man. Now, why don't you get some sleep, alright? The others will be here later tonight."

The blonde hummed, his eyes already closed and drifting off into oblivion. The next time he woke up, the team was there, happy that he was awake. They talked for a while until Grissom wanted to speak with him alone.

"How are you feeling, Greg?"

The blonde shrugged. "Okay, I guess."

Grissom sighed and sat forward in the chair. "Nick said you had something to tell me?"

Greg looked at the wall, staying silent. Grissom's eyebrow quirked up. "Greg?"

The blonde raised his head, staring at the older man. He knew he had to tell Grissom because he wasn't going to leave until he did. Taking a deep breath, he began telling the supervisor what he had done. The man's face remained emotionless, at times, his eyes going wide, but he stayed silent until Greg was finished.

"Well Greg," Grissom sighed. "I'm glad that you told me this. How are you doing? Mentally."

"I don't know…I mean, I'm getting there slowly. Nick said I wasn't alone in this."

"And you're not," Grissom replied, placing his hand on Greg's arm. "We're here for you, Greg. I know we weren't after you got attacked, but we are now. What you went through was horrible and scarring and something you may never truly get over. Now, I'm not the best person to talk about it to you, because I've never gone through it, but Sara, Nick, even Brass can help you through this. They know what it's like to deal with this stuff. It's okay to be scared, Greg, it doesn't make you a weak person. It makes you a human being."

Greg chewed on his lips and then smiled. Grissom was the last person he thought would even care about him…but it made him feel better. "Thank you, Gris. So…now what?"

"The doctor said you have a long recovery, mostly because of the broken bones, so bed rest for the long haul."

Greg groaned. Great, he was gonna be stuck at home for weeks…again.

Grissom chuckled. Greg had such a passion for his job, which was one of the reasons why he promoted him to a CSI…why he gave the kid a second chance. He had untapped potential. Greg would rather be working than recovering; he cared more about the job than his own health. "It'll be over before you know it, Greg. Plus, you'll have someone coming over every day to keep you company."

Greg sighed through his nose and nodded. They sat in silence for a few moments before Greg ended up drifting off. Grissom smiled and fixed the man's sheets before getting up and leaving. When he reached the door, he looked back at the slumbering CSI; the poor kid had been alone and hurting and thought that suicide was the only way to solve all his problems. And he failed to see it…he failed as a friend, as a leader and as the head of this family. Greg was nothing short of a son to him, as were Nick and Warrick, and he let his youngest suffer in the darkness. He never did that with Nick, hell, he especially didn't do it with Sara, so why didn't he help Greg out? He felt guilty and that was why he was gonna visit and be there for Greg a lot more from here on out. Greg was a huge part of their family and he couldn't forget that. He smiled and left the room. Time to start making things right.

**FIN!**

**A/N: Not sure if there really is a candy corn factory in Henderson, NV, but let's just pretend there is :p**

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	31. Peanuts

**Peanuts**

**_Prompt for: Guest #4: How about Greg has an allergic reaction; Greg is allergic to peanuts or something._**

**Enjoy!**

**Sorry for the long wait, all I've been doing is working with having a fulltime and part-time job, ugghh, and then I'm exhausted when I get home, but here you go!**

The team split didn't make anyone happy, especially Grissom. Sure he had Sara, but they were all supposed to be a team…a family and Ecklie stirred it all up. They all missed each other; getting together for coffee now and then wasn't gonna cut it forever. Something had to be done, but for now, they had a case to deal with: the death of a restaurant cook that deemed suspicious. He had suffocated, but there were no marks on him whatsoever.

"Greg, I want you to check out the storage room where the victim was found, see if there are any prints, anything that could be out of place there," Grissom instructed. "Curtis, talk to the woman that found him, Sara and I will interview the other workers. Someone _here_ had it out for the cook and no one is going anywhere until we find out who."

They all nodded and went their separate ways. Greg grabbed his kit from the Denali and went into the storage room. The victim, Jeb Wilkins, had been removed, but there was still a lingering scent of dead body in the room. Doc Robbins had put the time of death around five last night and since the restaurant was closed on Sunday, the body wasn't discovered until this morning. The poor waitress that found him must've gotten the full hit of the smell. Sighing, he put his kit down and stared at everything in the room. How the hell was he supposed to find something that would give him some logic as to how Wilkins was killed? _Everything_ looked out of place, it was a messy storage closet. He scanned the room when suddenly something caught his eye. There were a row of boxes on the shelf on the far wall, neatly stacked…except for one that seemed a slightly pulled out. To any other person, it wouldn't really look suspicious, but to a CSI, that was a whole different story. Frowning, Greg walked over and inspected it for a moment; maybe there was something behind it that would give them answers. Pulling on gloves, he tugged on the box. It took a little effort since it seemed to be stuck on something. The second he pulled it out, he was hit in the face with a puff of powder. At first he didn't think it was harmful, assuming it was flour…until he caught the scent of it. Peanuts.

"Oh no." He was deathly allergic to peanuts. He wiped his face in hopes to prevent the reaction, but he could already feel his body begin to itch and his mouth feel tingly. Unfortunately, he had left his epipen in his locker, so he needed to get out of here fast and get help. He wiped the powder away from his eyes and saw that the door had shut. _Weird. _Greg swallowed tersely, feeling hot and nauseous. This was not good. Coughing violently, the blonde stumbled over to the door and tried to open it…but it was locked.

"What the h-hell?" How could this be happening right now? Through his thickening haze, Greg couldn't help wonder if this is how the victim was killed. Maybe Wilkins was just as allergic to peanuts as he was. And maybe someone who worked here knew that and also knew that Jeb would be alone. Somehow, the killer had created a booby trap: the box would be pulled, peanut powder explodes into the victim's face and the door locks from the outside. To a person who didn't have a peanut allergy, this wouldn't be a problem, but for him, it was a _huge_ problem. Jeb Wilkins was murdered and he was next if someone didn't open the door.

"Hey! Is s-somebody…out there," he gasped, banging frantically on the door. "Help!" The storage closet was unfortunately all the way in back of the restaurant so unless he shouted at the top of his lungs with oxygen he barely had or someone came looking for him, he was done for. Greg wheezed, his chest becoming tight and his stomach cramping; it felt like he had ate a bunch of needles. "S-Some…body!" The seconds ticked by and Greg's condition quickly got worse. His face was burning and swollen almost to the point where he couldn't see or even feel his mouth. Greg clutched his constricted chest and whimpered, unable to inhale properly; it made him extremely lightheaded and dizzy. "Help," he gasped weakly as the edges of his vision began to gray. Greg's forehead bumped against the door as his legs weakened and he slid down to the ground. He was gonna die. No one was gonna find him until it was too late. A tear slipped down his cheek and just as his eyes were about to close, the door gave away and he fell out into the hall.

"Greg! Oh my god, what's wrong?!"

He couldn't tell whose voice that was, all he knew was that he had been released from the storage room. He just hoped someone had an epipen, otherwise he was gonna suffocate soon. _Very_ soon.

"Greg! Can you hear me?"

The blonde opened his eyes and Sara's panicked face swam into view though she was still blurry. He had to tell her what was wrong or she wouldn't be able to save him.

"C-Can't…breathe…h-help."

"Someone call an ambulance! Greg, stay with me; why can't you breathe?"

"A-Allergic…peanuts…trap," he could barely keep his eyes open and he wasn't sure if that was due to lack of oxygen or his quickly swelling eyes.

"Trap? What are you talking about?"

"Trap…moved…" Greg coughed, still unable to take in oxygen, but he had to tell her what happened; had to tell her how their victim probably died. He could sense other people surrounding him and clearly no one had an epipen, because he was still dying. He could hear his heart rapidly beating in his ears; it was only a matter of time before it slowed down and stopped.

"Greg don't talk," he heard Grissom speak, though it sounded like he was miles away. "You need to save your breath, no one here has an epipen, but the ambulance is almost here."

"N-No…have to…have to t-tell…you. M-Moved the b-box…p-peanut…powder sprayed…in…face. Door shut…c-couldn't get out…couldn't br-breathe. That's how…" he gasped sharply, his vision darkening. This was it. He was gonna die. Before he could get out another word, Greg's eyes closed and he took his last breath. He really screwed up this time.

Sara was walking down the hall when she heard banging. At first she was confused and on high alert in case there was a threat, but then she noticed it was coming from the storage room where Greg was supposed to be processing. He must've gotten shut in; smirking in amusement, she went to go open it with a joking remark, but her mood changed the second she opened the door and Greg came tumbling out. He was gasping weakly for air and his face…oh god, his face was red, covered in hives, swollen and lips were dangerously blue. She was terrified; Greg was suffocating and she had no idea why. The brunette had called for help and for someone to get an ambulance, however the longer they waited, the worse Greg became. He began talking about a peanuts and a trap, confusing her because he wasn't making much sense. Grissom told the kid not to talk, but of course he didn't listen. Greg was stubborn as hell and if he was telling them something, it had to be about the case. He was dying and that was all he cared about. Fearful tears running down her face, Sara clutched the blonde's hand. And that's when he stopped breathing…when his eyes closed, his chest stopped moving.

"Oh god…Greg?" She cupped his cheek. "Greg!" Sara looked up at Grissom. "He's not breathing. Gil, he's not breathing!"

"Where's the ambulance!" He shouted at the top of his lungs.

"It's two minutes away," an officer said.

"Dammit. He can't wait that long, we're gonna have to perform CPR. Sara, I'm gonna do compressions, you start with the rescue breaths."

Nodding shakily, the brunette did what she was told. For two minutes, a whole one hundred and twenty seconds, they did the procedure on the youngest of the team, but nothing happened. Greg's lungs refused to cooperate and they knew that it wouldn't be long before his heart stopped too.

"Greg…please don't give up on us," Sara whispered, smoothing back Greg's hair. All of a sudden, the paramedics burst through the door, wheeling a gurney towards them. They immediately injected Greg with adrenaline and they all watched, waiting nervously for Greg to take a breath. But nothing happened.

"Why isn't it working?" Sara snapped.

"Sometimes we have to do it more than once." Another syringe appeared in the medic's hand and quickly injected into Greg's leg. Seconds ticked by when finally Greg inhaled, though it was still pretty raspy.

"His throat is still dangerously swollen; we're gonna have to intubate." A tube was attempted to be shoved down Greg's throat, but it was still too swollen leaving them no choice but to perform a tracheotomy. When the tube was in, they attached an ambu-bag to the end. After manually pumping air a few times, Greg's color, or lack of color, began to return and the dark blue tint of his lips seemed to fade. But he wasn't out of the woods yet.

"I'm going with him," Sara said and the medics didn't argue.

"Alright," Grissom sighed. "Call us with updates. I'll go back to the lab and let the others know."

Sara nodded and disappeared out the door with Greg once he was strapped onto the gurney and wheeled out.

"What do you want me to do?" Sofia asked, exhaling heavily.

"I want you to see what Greg was talking about. I'm starting to think that our victim was killed the same way Greg almost was. When I go back to the lab, I'm gonna check to see if Wilkins had an allergy, because if he did, this death might've just moved from accidental to intentional." Grissom looked out the doors as the ambulance drove away. _And Greg was almost a second victim…he still could be._

~+CSI+~

"Is he gonna be okay?" Sara asked once the vehicle sped off towards the hospital. Greg looked horrible and if he was awake, he definitely would be miserable.

"I don't know. This is a pretty bad case of anaphylactic shock; his throat is still closed up more than I'd like it to be and then adrenaline is gonna start wearing off soon. Hopefully we'll be at the hospital by that time. What's his allergy?" An oxygen mask was place over Greg's mouth, but he had yet to regain consciousness.

"Peanuts, but…I just found out today. I don't think any one of us knew. But Greg seemed to know." _I can't believe he didn't tell us._ She sighed and grabbed the blonde's cold hand, rubbing his knuckles. "Why didn't you say anything, Greg?"

As if he heard her, Greg's eyes flickered open and looked around, but Sara could tell he was completely out of it.

"Greg?"

He glanced towards her, but didn't do anything except stare blankly. The brunette sighed sadly, stroking his cheek. Greg weakly gripped her hand and she smiled comfortingly. "You're gonna be okay, Greg. Just hang on."

Out of nowhere, the blonde's eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body went limp, followed by a flat tone from the heart monitor.

"Oh my god!" Sara cried.

"Let go of his hand, miss, we're gonna have to shock his heart."

The woman watched tearfully as they tried to revive Greg with the paddles.

"Still no pulse. Charge to 260. Clear!"

Greg's body jerked with the electric shock, but the tone was still flat. Sara sobbed, covering her mouth with her hand. Greg was dying…he wasn't coming back.

"Clear!"

"Nothing."

How could this all go so wrong so fast?

"Clear!"

What was she gonna tell the team? Oh god, what was she gonna tell Nick? The two were like brothers, he was gonna be devastated when he got the news. _Please don't leave us, Greg. We need you._

"Clear!"

~+C+~

Grissom walked down the halls of the lab, dreading revealing the news of Greg. They were not gonna like it, that's for sure. He wondered why Greg never mentioned his peanut allergy…it wasn't even in his file. Maybe he at least told Nick? They were best friends after all. The supervisor reached the locker room where Catherine, Nick, and Warrick were getting ready to head out for the night; he hated that they were on swing shift; they barely got to see each other for the hour that their time overlapped and that was if they didn't go straight to the field.

"Hey Gris," Nick smiled. "And no we're not helping you on your case as much as you beg us too. Plus Ecklie would throw a temper tantrum if he found out."

The three laughed, but Grissom's face remained unchanged…and when Catherine noticed, she sobered up.

"Gil, what's wrong?"

"There's, uh, no easy way to say this but…Greg, he went into anaphylactic shock at the crime scene. He stopped breathing until the medics got to us and injected him with adrenaline."

"What?" Both Nick and Warrick exclaimed.

"Oh my god," Catherine said. "How? I didn't even know Greg had any allergies."

"Neither did I. Apparently he's deathly allergic to peanuts and…it's weird, but he was talking about a trap and how peanut powder was thrown into his face somehow. He couldn't get out of the storage room, where the victim had died, because the door locked from the outside. Whoever killed our victim, knew that he was allergic to peanuts, too. Sofia is still at the scene, trying to figure out how this all happened and Sara went with Greg to the hospital."

"Is he gonna be okay?" Nick asked, feeling sick. Greg had fucking stopped breathing. He wished he had been there; he hated that he wasn't able to watch out for his little brother anymore.

"I don't know," Grissom replied. "It wasn't good when he left. He needed to a tube to help him breathe and he wasn't conscious."

"Jesus."

"I take it you didn't know anything about this, Nick?"

"What? What are you-?"

"His allergy. He never told you about it?"

"No, of course not or else I'd make sure he never left this place without an epipen."

Grissom sighed. "It wasn't in his file either."

"I'm gonna kill that kid," Nick muttered while speeding up his packing. "What hospital?"

"Nick, maybe you should go home and rest for a little bit," Catherine suggested.

"I agree," added Grissom. "I'm sure there's not much we can do for him at the moment."

"I don't care; Greg is my best friend and conscious or unconscious, I'm gonna be there for him and when he wakes up, I'm gonna kick his ass for scaring us all."

"I'll ride with you," Warrick said, getting his things too.

When they left, Grissom rubbed his forehead tiredly. These things weren't supposed to happen.

~+C+~

When Nick and Warrick arrived at the hospital, they found Sara sitting in the waiting room…what really unnerved them was the tears in her eyes and the haunted look on her pale face.

"Sara?"

The brunette glanced up and swallowed. "Nick, oh my god." She started crying again and the Texan didn't like that one bit.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "What happened? Is Greg okay?"

"I don't…I don't know. They were trying to restart his heart when they got here…that's the last thing I saw. Nick, what if he's…what if he's gone?"

"No, don't say that," the man choked. "Don't fucking say that; Greg's not gonna die. He doesn't have our permission. He's gonna be okay." He stood up, running a hand through his hair. "He's gonna be okay." Clearing his throat, he glanced at his watch. "How long have you been waiting?"

Sara wiped her nose. "Umm, about twenty minutes."

"I'm gonna find a doctor around here and get some answers." He had to do something; he couldn't just sit around and think about how Greg literally died and that was how Sara saw him last. Cold and lifeless. Nick shuddered and continued to walk down the hallway. Nick didn't find a doctor, but he settled for a nurse who said that Greg was still being taken care of in the ER and someone would come out shortly. Well, shortly quickly turned into an hour; Catherine and Grissom showed up, Warrick bought coffee and Sara had somewhat calmed down, but Nick hadn't. He was restless and about to go bother the nurses for the fifth time when a doctor finally appeared.

"Are you all here for Gregory Sanders?"

"Yes," Grissom said. "How is he?"

"Still in critical condition. After crashing in the ambulance, we got him back after four minutes. It was a close call; his reaction to the peanuts was near fatal, I've never seen any anaphylaxis that bad before. The swelling in his throat, has thankfully gone down, but Greg isn't breathing on his own yet, therefore he we have him connected to a ventilator. We removed the tube from his trachea, however, and intubated through his mouth. We'll monitor his condition hour by hour, but it's going to be touch and go for the next twelve hours. Hopefully we can get his blood pressure back up since it was severely low from shock."

"Is he awake? Can we see him?" Sara asked.

""You can see him, but, no, he's not awake. We have him under heavy sedation and we're gonna keep him that way until the swelling starts to go down and his lungs get stronger. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to his room."

When they got there, the picture they saw before them was nothing like they expected.

**Two Hours Later**

Catherine and Warrick had gone home to rest and freshen up while Grissom went to go check on the progress with the crime scene. Nick and Sara stayed behind with Greg; Sara because Greg was her best friend and she also wanted to get the image of him dying out of her mind and Nick, because the kid was also his best friend, but more so his little brother that he should've been looking out for no matter what. And now look what happened…Greg looked like shit. His skin was ice cold and his lips were a shade of blue, parted from the ventilator tube that was down his throat; and even with the help of the machine, the younger man's breathing came out raspy. The swelling had gone down slightly, but there were still a number of hives scattered on his face and neck, some hidden from the bandage covering the stitched up hole that the emergency tracheotomy had made.

Sara ran her fingers through Greg's spiky hair, hating the mechanical sound of the man's breathing. This shouldn't have happened. Part of her blamed Greg for being so careless to not have his epipen available or to even let them know he was allergic to peanuts in the first place.

"I'm so mad at you Greg," she whispered. "I'm mad at you for scaring me like that. Nick is pissed at you, too."

"Damn right, kid. You should've told us," Nick added, clutching the blonde's hand. "But please come back…we need you."

"I promise we won't be mad at you forever."

They only got a raspy exhale as a response. Sara stroked the man's cheek and glanced up at the Texan. "I'm sorry I let this happen, Nick. I know how protective you are of him at times."

Nick smirked. "It's not your fault, Sara. It's nobody's fault, not even Greg's. Sure, he should've been more careful, but whoever set up that trap is responsible and I'm gonna rip their lungs out when I find them."

"You and me both." Sara sighed and looked back down at their unconscious friend. "If you can hear us, Greg, we're gonna be right here when you wake up." She glanced up at the monitors, nervous on how slow Greg's heartbeat was. But there was nothing more they could do…except wait.

The next morning, the doctor removed the tube and lightened the sedation, promising Greg should wake up within the next couple of hours. And he did. Nick was dozing in the chair and Sara had gone to get coffee with Grissom when the blonde let out a hoarse moan. Nick jerked awake, rubbing his eyes and sat up at the noise.

"Greg? Buddy, are you with me?" Nick placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder while watching the kid rapidly blink his eyes open. "Greg."

What the hell was wrong with him? Why did his head feel like it was filled with cotton balls? Or why did his chest feel like it had been stomped on repeatedly by an elephant or why was his throat was literally burning? Worse, why couldn't he remember what happened? Greg heard Nick's voice in the distance and decided to go towards it. Maybe he had some answers. Upon opening his eyes, he was hit with a blinding light causing him to blink furiously.

_"__Greg."_

Tiredly, he rolled his eyes over to the voice and saw a blurry figure sitting next to him. It was Nick. Holy shit, his head hurt. "Nick?" He coughed violently and almost immediately there was a cup at his lips. After greedily downing the water, Greg relaxed against the pillows. "Wh-what…where am I? What happened?"

"You're in the hospital. How are you feeling?"

"Dizzy. My chest and throat hurt too."  
"Yeah, well you had a tube in it not too long ago. You weren't able to breathe on your own."

"What?!"

"Easy, bud. You're okay now…you just scared the shit out of us." When Greg gave Nick a quizzical look, the Texan continued. "Something happened at your crime scene, we're not really clear on the how, but it had something to do with peanut powder and it was sprayed in your face. Sara found you in the closet gasping for air. She, um, she said you stopped breathing and then in the ambulance your heart stopped. It was…close for a while, but like I said, you're okay now."

Greg was completely shocked to hear that he had almost died…and it was his fault. He had been such an idiot to not have his medication on him.

"Greg…why didn't you tell us?" Nick asked. "Don't you think that you being allergic- deathly allergic- to peanuts is something we should know?" Greg remained silent. "Answer me, you can't not say anything. You scared us. We really thought we were gonna lose you. And Sara, she _watched_ you die. Your heart stopped and she was right there. She and Grissom had to give you CPR."

"I didn't mean to forget, I was running late for work so I spaced on grabbing one from my house. And then Grissom called, saying he was already at the scene and I didn't get the one from my locker. I usually have it under control, I usually never forget it. I didn't worry about it, because it was only gonna be a couple hours at the scene and nothing bad has ever happened. Of course the one day it does…"

Nick pursed his lips, resting his hand on the blonde's arm. "You need to be more careful, man. What would we have done if…if they couldn't get you back?"

"I'm sorry, Nick," Greg replied, wiping tears from his face. "I'm really sorry."

The Texan sighed and brought the younger man into his arms. "It's okay. Just promise not to do it again. I think now we're all gonna carry a few epipen for emergencies."

Greg pulled away and was about to say something when a voice interrupted.

"Greg? You're awake!"

He looked towards the door to see Sara coming in, a relieved smile on her face. Immediately, she walked over to his bed and pulled him into a tight embrace. "Thank god. Jesus, Greg you scared me to death." She sniffed and Greg felt like complete shit for putting the woman through hell.

"I'm sorry, Sara. I promise all of you guys it won't happen again. Trust me, it's not a good feeling. My chest still hurts. By the way, what happened with the case? Did you figure out what happened?"

"Yeah," Sara replied, sitting down. "Sophia and Grissom found prints all over the box and the vent where the peanut powder came out. They belonged to Jeb's fiancé or should I say ex-fiancé, May Clifford the waitress, the one who found the body. They were getting married in a week before he dumped her for another girl."

"Rough," Greg yawned.

"She was a science and engineering major so she was able to create that trap. The only reason he died and you didn't was because no one was around. She probably planned it knowing he would go into work when they were closed."

Nick sighed. "Well it was clever, I give her that. Probably would've gotten away with it had you not grabbed that box."

Greg smirked, rolling his eyes. "Glad I could make the sacrifice."

The two older CSI's grinned while noticing that Greg was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. They didn't blame him though; the conversation probably took a lot out of him.

"Alright, enough talk for now. I'm pretty sure Grissom is gonna want to speak with you about all this, but you should get some sleep, you look exhausted," Nick said, patting Greg's shoulder.

Greg didn't need telling twice. He was out before they could say anything else.

The next time Greg woke up, he was feeling slightly better, though still sore. Nick and Sara were gone, but Grissom was there.

"Gris?" Greg yawned, rubbing his eyes. "When did you get here?"

"Twenty minutes ago."

"You could've woken me up."

"You needed your rest. How are you feeling?"

"Okay I guess…I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my allergy."

"It's very important you tell us these things, Greg, because if this had happened at a time where you need to have someone's back, then more than one person could get hurt."

Greg bowed his head. He really screwed up.

"But also, because you put me and Sara in a very helpless positon. You scared the both of us; you're part of the family and no one ever wants to unable to help someone we care about."

"I'm sorry," Greg repeated. "It won't happen again."

"Good. You're an exceptional CSI, Greg. We don't want to lose that." Grissom placed a hand on Greg's arm for a second and the younger man smiled.

"Thanks." He never expected to hear that from Grissom, but it made him feel good about himself.

"You better rest," Grissom said after a few seconds of silence. "Catherine is stopping by later and she's not as lenient as I am."

Greg closed his eyes, but smirked. "Great."

Grissom smiled before standing up to leave. Ever since Greg started working for the lab, he always knew the kid had some untapped potential. He was crazy, but also crazy smart. Now that he was a CSI, Greg was exposed to more danger- worse than the lab explosion- but like he told the kid: they were family and they all watched out for each other no matter what. Plus Nick was like a mother hen to the blonde so there really wasn't anything to worry about. Now if he could just find a way to get the team back together.

**FIN**

**A/N: Sorry for the crappy ending, I wanted to give you guys an update asap, because next week I'll be working 65hours between both my jobs, so I don't know how much story writing and updating I'll get to. I promise to write on my free time, but updating will be slower.**

_**Next prompt for:Marymel**_

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_**Nico225**_

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_**Katie Shimkus**_

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_**ShortGiant**_

_**Fanatic Reader**_

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___**Marymel**_

_**Stay tuned!**_

_**Reviews are love and inspiration!**_


	32. Shots Fired

**Shots Fired**

_**Prompt for Marymel: Takes place at the conference in "Girls Gone Wilder"; Greg comes to help get Morgan and Sara out and one of the shooters shoots him.**_

**Sorry for the super long wait, I really hope you're all still reading! Working 50+ hours a week is so exhausting :( Anyways, I'm trying to update as much as possible but enjoy this next installment!**

Greg didn't like this at all. Some crazed gunman was running around a CSI conference murdering people and his three colleagues- one being a person he had a crush on and one he had known for fifteen years; not that he didn't care about Fin, but right now, the two other girls were his priority, plus the older woman was trapped in an elevator, safer than anyone at the moment. He was supposed to be ID'ing the shooter and he had and let everyone know, but he wasn't about to just sit around and wait for more bad news. He had to do something; he had to save his friends before they ended up getting killed, too. He left without telling anyone, focused on getting to the hotel, especially after seeing the footage of the shooting and Morgan's terrified face. It made his heart ache to see her in so much pain. He remembered when she was almost killed after the helicopter incident and he felt extremely guilty for weeks, knowing it should've been him there not her. Just thinking about it made him sick and step harder on the gas. He wasn't letting anyone get hurt ever again. Even if it meant sacrificing himself.

When he got there, people were still running out of the hotel, screaming and crying. Swallowing thickly, he searched the area for Morgan and Sara. But they were nowhere to be seen. All of a sudden, Morgan came rushing out, assisted by a SWAT member before he ran back in.

"Morgan!" They ran at each other and Greg was least expecting her to barrel into his arms, embracing him tightly. At first he was shocked, but then he hugged her back, not able to imagine the terror she had gone through. He tightened his grip when she choked a sob. "Are you okay?"

She nodded into his chest before pulling away. "Yeah, I'm okay…I just," she glanced down at her hands that were caked in dried blood…Vicki's blood. Her hands trembled, feeling sick; she couldn't believe this was happening.

"Morgan?"

"W-What?"

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"I will be once this is over. What are you doing here?"

"Coming to help you guys out. Speaking of, where's Sara?"

Morgan gasped. "She's still inside; she refused to evacuate with the rest of us. Oh my god, she's gonna get killed."

"Don't worry, I'll get her out, you just stay here."

"No!" She grabbed his arm before he had time to run off. "Wait, you could get hurt!"

"Relax, I promise I'll be okay," Greg smiled. "I've already told police and the SWAT team who the shooter is. They'll have him out in no time." He squeezed her shoulder before running off towards the building. Morgan watched desperately as the man she secretly liked ran off towards the danger. She really hoped he would be okay; she wasn't ready to lose him.

Greg ran into the building, breathing heavily as he searched the hallways. There were still some people rushing out, SWAT was clearing the rooms but Sara was nowhere…at least he didn't see her amongst the bodies on the floor. Greg shuddered, imagining what could've happened if Morgan and Sara had sat in a different place during the presentation. He could've lost both of them in a matter of seconds. Biting the inside of his cheek, he continued to search, hoping he wouldn't run into the shooter.

~+CSI+~

Morgan nervously glanced down at her watch before rubbing her arms. It had been ten minutes already and Greg nor Sara had come out of the building. It was making her panic. What if the shooter got to one of them? Or both of them? She looked at her watch again, tapping her foot.

"Come on, come on where are you guys?" All of a sudden, she heard multiple gunshots and her heart leapt into her throat making her sick. Ripping her phone from her pocket, the blonde dialed Greg's number. When he didn't pick up, she freaked.

"Oh my god, oh my god." She was right about to go running into the building, when her phone buzzed. "Greg!?"

_"Yeah, it's me,"_ Greg replied and Morgan let out a sigh of relief while wiping tears from her eyes.

"A-Are you okay? I heard…I heard gunshots. Is Sara okay?"

_"I'm fine, that was just the police shooting at Jeff. We're on the ninth floor right now and they had to kill him. They're gonna be on their way out with his body soon."_

"And Sara?"

_"I still have yet to find her, but at least the threat is gone."_

"Yeah." But the woman didn't feel at ease; there was a niggling in the back of her head that told her something was wrong. "Just be careful."

_"I will, don't worry. I promise."_ Once they hung up, Morgan watched Jeff's body be loaded into the coroner's van along with two other innocent victims. Until Greg and Sara got out of there _alive_ she was going to worry. And if they didn't return soon, she was going back in there, safe or not.

Meanwhile, Greg searched the now empty halls for Sara, hoping he wouldn't find her dead or bleeding out on the floor somewhere.

"Sara! Sara, where are you?" Each empty floor he searched made him worry even more. Where the hell could she be? By the time he reached the eighteenth floor, Greg was about to start heading down when he saw Sara squatting next to a body in the middle of the hall. He smiled in relief and started walking towards her.

"Sara, what the hell, why haven't you evacuated yet?"

The woman stood up and frowned. "Greg? When did you get here?"

"Maybe ten minutes ago, I came to help and I've been looking all over for you."

"Sorry, I know it was stupid. I just…I know this guy he was part of my team a long time ago and now he's dead. Actually, everyone from my old team is dead…it's making me wonder if this was all planned; if this was _meant_ to kill all of us."

"Well, he's gone now, they found him nine floors down and killed him when he didn't surrender."

"Thank god. What about Morgan is-" all of a sudden, Sara's tone and face changed in a split second. "Greg look out!"

The second the blonde turned around a gunshot went off and pain exploded in his chest before it sent him to the ground.

"Greg!" Sara went to go run to her friend when the man with the gun pointed it at her, forcing the brunette to freeze.

"Don't move."

Sara raised her hands in surrender, glancing over the shooter's shoulder to see Greg unmoving on the floor. _Oh god, please don't let him be dead._ Why didn't she evacuate, she should've evacuated and then maybe they'd both be safe.

"Ballard…I thought…I thought you were in prison."

"Not anymore."

"You did all this?"

"Nah, I owe most of the credit to the other guy. Turns out I'm not the only one who hates law enforcement…like hundreds of others you put away."

"What do you want?" Sara felt her phone buzzing in her pocket, but didn't dare to move in risk of making Cliff shoot her.

"I want you dead, just like the man behind you and some of the others that were killed." He cocked the gun, ready to pull the trigger.

Sara glanced back at the body, now realizing he was part of the team that put Ballard away all those years ago. And then she also realized that _Ballard_ had been the one to send her that text. It was a trap and Greg had gotten caught in the crossfires because of her. _Greg, please wake up._

The blonde twitched, pain flooding back into his entire body, but mostly his chest when he came to. Blinking furiously, Greg realized he must've blacked out for a minute. What the hell happened? _Oh right, I was shot and Sara…Sara!_ With a surge of adrenaline, Greg peeled open his eyes and staggered to his feet. His vision was blurry and doubled, but as he leaned heavily against the wall, gasping for a breath, he could see two figures standing not too far away from him, one holding a gun…at Sara. He had to save her; he was already dying so it wouldn't matter if he hurt himself even more in the process. He could feel the warm sticky blood soak his shirt and drip down his stomach. Greg knew he had to be quick before he ended up passing out. That or he hoped SWAT would show up soon.

"Cliff stop," Sara whispered as the shooter got closer. "You did a lot of great work, but sometimes when things didn't work out, you feel like you failed."

Cliff came at her all of a sudden, pushing her against the wall and shoving the gun into her body.

"L-Leave…her…alone!" Greg growled hoarsely, surprising the others. The second Cliff turned around, the blonde leapt into the air and tackled the man to the ground. They fought for the gun, Greg trying his hardest since he was already at a disadvantage. He could hear Sara shouting frantically in the background, but he couldn't focus on that, especially when his head was spinning from the rapid blood loss. It felt like they had been grappling forever, but it finally ceased when a gunshot rang out in his ears…and he knew _he_ had been the one hit and not Ballard due to the pain in his abdomen and the ice cold feeling spreading through veins. Breath catching in his throat, the blonde rolled off Cliff and onto the floor, clutching his stomach and wheezing uncontrollably. Greg closed his eyes for a second-or what he thought was a second- before opening them again to see Sara hovering over him, tears in her eyes and her mouth moving, yet no words were coming out. He rolled his eyes around and saw some members of the SWAT team removing the gun from Ballard's now dead body. _When the hell had that happened?_

"'Eg? Ca…'ou…'ear…me? Greg!"

"S-Sar…ra," he choked, tasting blood on his tongue.

"Don't…don't talk okay, just breathe. Oh god." There was too much death today, adding her best friend to the list was not what she needed.

Greg felt pressure on his chest and his abdomen, making him whimper in pain.

"Sorry, I'm sorry. I have to try and stop the bleeding." Sara's hands were shaking violently. This was all her fault. "Just hang on, the paramedics will be here soon. Please, just hang on."

Greg coughed, blood spraying onto his lips. He was so cold…in so much pain. He wanted to sleep, but he didn't want to scare Sara either. Weakly, he lifted his good arm and clutched her wrist. He could feel it in his body that he might not make it…he had to let her know he didn't blame her.

"N-Not…your…f-fault."

"It is my fault," Sara sniffed. "I should've just left with all the others instead of staying here. Now…"

"S'okay." He his eyes fluttered. _So tired._ Maybe he could sleep for a few minutes. Sara wouldn't mind right? Two minutes would do no harm at all.

_"Sara!"_

That sounded like Morgan's voice. What was she doing here? She had to go before she got hurt too. She was gonna be so mad; he promised her he'd be careful. Why wouldn't his eyes open? Why couldn't he breathe? He could hear his heart thumping loudly in his ears, getting slower and slower with each passing moment. He was going to die, there was no doubt about that.

The second she heard more gunshots, Morgan knew, deep down in the pit of her stomach, that something bad had happened. The blonde bolted back into the hotel, tears running down her face while she got up to the last floor Greg said he was at…but no one was there. Breathing heavily, she called Greg's number, praying he would pick up. The line clicked…but it wasn't Greg who answered.

_"Morgan?"_

"Sara! W-Why are you answering Greg's phone?"

_Silence._

"Sara, p-please tell me."

_"He was shot."_

"Oh my god. What floor are you on?"

_"The eighteenth, but-"_

"I'm coming up right now." Before Sara had time to respond, Morgan hung up and sped to the floor her friends were at. What she saw when rounding the corner made her heart stop; Sara was hovering over Greg whose eyes were closed, his breathing shallow and erratic and blood, so much blood, drenched the front of his shirt. "Sara!" Rushing over, Morgan fell to her knees and choked a sob. "What happened?!"

"There was another shooter," Sara cried. "He came out of nowhere and shot Greg. When he started coming after me, Greg got up and they fought for the gun. Before I knew it, Greg was getting shot again and SWAT showed up and killed the shooter."

"Where are the paramedics?" Morgan said, trying to stay calm and pressing her hands against Greg's stomach wound.

"They're coming," an officer said. "They're almost here."

"Greg? Greg, please wake up."

The blonde's eyes flickered open briefly, his breaths coming out in slow gasps. "Mor-"

"I'm right here, Greg," she smiled tearfully. "Just stay awake, okay?"

Greg just stared at her blankly before his eyes closed and his chest stopped moving. His hold on Sara's wrist slackened and his arm fell to the ground with a thump.

"No!" Sara and Morgan cried in unison. The blonde pat Greg's cold cheek desperately, wishing he would open his eyes already. "Greg, wake up please."

"Morgan…he's not breathing."

"Oh my god, oh my god," Greg was dying.

"We need to start CPR, I don't know where the paramedics are at."

"Okay," Morgan sniffed, wiping her eyes and forcing herself to remain calm. But how the hell could she be? "What do you need me to do?"

"The rescue breaths, I'll start compressions."

Morgan nodded and watched as Sara pressed against Greg's immobile chest repeatedly, the blood squelching each time she pushed down. She had never touched Greg's lips before; she had dreamt about it, sure but of course it's never happened. However, she definitely knew that it wouldn't be how she imagined; there would be no warmth, no wetness, no spark. It would be cold, waxy and lifeless.

"Morgan!"

She jumped out of her trance and saw the brunette staring at her. "Oh, s-sorry." Bending forward, she pinched Greg's nose and pressed her mouth over his. Twice, she blew air into his lungs and they waited a few seconds for him to start breathing again, but nothing happened. They did CPR for two minutes and still everything remained the same.

Morgan was sobbing as she watched Sara do another round of compressions. Why wasn't Greg breathing? She shouldn't have let him go in. Grasping his cold hand, Morgan stared at his emotionless face. "Greg…please wake up. Don't leave me."

~+CSI+~

It had been an excruciating two hours. They couldn't get Greg back until the medics finally arrived, shocked his heart and pushed a tube down his throat. Morgan was near hysteric when they weren't allowed to go in the ambulance with him; she was terrified it would've been the last time she saw him alive- well somewhat alive. After Sara calmed her down, while trying to stay calm herself, she had an officer drive them to the hospital where she called DB to let them know the situation. She knew once Nick got word of this he would be nearly in the same state as Morgan.

Nick burst through the hospital doors, breathing heavily and feeling anxious. He didn't even realize Greg had gone to the hotel until Russell told him Greg was being brought to the hospital because he got shot. He didn't want to believe it had been bad, but when he saw Morgan crying in the corner and Sara doing her best not to do the same while comforting her, plus all the dried blood on their hands, he knew it was. Greg was his best friend, like a little brother to him; he didn't even want to think about the possibility of losing the kid.

"Sara," he choked as he walked over to her. The brunette looked up and let Ecklie, who was right behind the Texan, comfort his daughter. "Any news?"

"Nothing. The nurse said he was still in surgery. Nick, I'm so sorry, this is my fault. I should've left the building with the others, then Greg never would've come looking for me."

Nick shook his head and brought the trembling woman into his arms. "It's okay, it's not your fault. It's no one's fault but the guy who decided to shoot up the place. How are you doing, by the way? And Morgan?"

"I'm fine…well, I'm terrified for Greg, but physically, I'm okay. Greg he…he got shot twice. The first time was just because he was there and the second was because Ballard was coming after me and Greg tried to fight him off. Morgan on the other hand…she's handling this pretty badly. We had to give him CPR, Nick, he wasn't breathing. And there was so much blood. Oh god." She pulled away, realizing how much blood she had on her hands. "I need to go wash this off." Sara quickly exited the waiting room and Nick wiped a hand down his face nervously before facing Russell.

"He's gonna be okay, Nick."

The Texan sighed. "I hope so." _I really hope so._

**One Hour Later**

Greg was in critical condition and the doctor said it would be touch and go for a while. The first bullet went into the right side of his chest, puncturing a lung; the second was, gratefully, only a flesh wound that went through his abdomen, miraculously missing the vital organs. However, there was a matter of no oxygen for nearly three minutes as well as infection and massive blood loss. He also was unable to breathe on his own, mostly because his body was too weak, so the doctor wanted to keep him on the ventilator for a day or two. Morgan was in shock, not talking and pale. Sara just wasn't talking, guilt overwhelming her more than sadness. Nick felt nauseous the second he saw his friend, broken and motionless. While they were waiting for the nurses to finish settling Greg into his room, Morgan disappeared into bathroom to try and get rid of the blood underneath her fingernails. Sara pursed her lips sadly and followed, grabbing a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. She found the blonde furiously scrubbing her hands raw.

"Here," she said, handing the disheveled woman the bottle.

Morgan glanced up briefly, before taking it and pouring it on her hands, scrubbing some more, while her messy hair spilled in her face.

"Morgan," Sara said after the woman had been washing her hands for at least two minutes now. "Morgan stop, you're gonna rub off your skin."

"I have to get it off. It's not off," she muttered.

"It's gone, Morgan," Sara replied, grabbing Morgan's wrists and tearing her away from the sink. "You got it off, okay? It's gone."

Morgan took a deep breath and nodded before exhaling shakily, tucking stray strands of hair behind her ears. Hugging herself, the blonde leaned against the wall and stared at the ground. "This is all just a huge nightmare and it's weird because we always come to the crime scene afterwards, not during. And now Greg he's…basically on his deathbed." She brought her a hand up to her mouth, trying to smother her cries.

Sara wiped a few tears from her eyes and went over to the blonde, hugging her gently. "You like him don't you."

Morgan sniffed. "More than that. Ever since we met, I've had this crush on him. He's an amazing guy and I never even had the courage to ask him out. What if I don't get that chance? I think…I think I love him, Sara. I know it sounds crazy, but I do."

"You will, he's gonna pull through. He always does. He's not gonna leave us behind, I promise. I'm not gonna let that happen and Nick sure as hell won't either."

Morgan seemed to calm down a little after that. "What about you? Are you okay? What happened between you and Ballard, aren't you scared about what would've happened had SWAT not shown up in time?"

Sara shrugged. "Yeah, it was pretty terrifying. I really thought he was gonna kill me. I thought, at first, that he had killed Greg. My heart almost stopped and right there, I almost didn't care if Ballard had killed me. But he saved my life; I honestly don't know where I would had he not fought for the gun. I mean…I feel guilty as hell now, but I know Greg. I know he's gonna make it."

Morgan wiped her eyes and stayed silent.

"You know we still have those reservations to go dancing, according to Finn. We should go when all this is over and Greg is better."

Morgan smiled weakly. "I'd like that."

The two women hugged before they went back to join the group and go see Greg. Morgan hoped Sara was right; she wasn't ready to lose him. No one was.

~+C+~

**Three Days Later 5:54am**

Nick jerked awake when he heard a pitiful moan from the bed. The doctors had taken Greg off the ventilator the other night, but he was still looking horrible. The poor kid didn't deserve to be shot twice, much less at all.

"Greg?" Nick grabbed the blonde's left hand and squeezed it gently. Greg's right arm was in a sling, plastered against his chest. He remembered when he had gotten shot by Jekyll a few years ago at that Italian restaurant; it hadn't been fun wearing that sling for nearly a month and he knew Greg wouldn't be too thrilled about it either. Maybe once the kid was feeling better, he'd order them a pizza, Greg would like that. "Greggo?" He had no idea where Morgan was, the girl hadn't left Greg's side since they were allowed to sit with him. He knew that she liked the guy and Greg _really_ liked her back; the two would be good together, they were all waiting for them to start dating already. "Can you hear me?"

The blonde groaned, his eyes rolling around underneath his lids. His fingers curled around Nick's, his head rolling towards the Texan's voice. It took a moment, but the younger man's eyes flickered open and tiredly looked around the room. He couldn't really remember what happened; he recalled seeing Sara and then she said something to him before there was a white hot pain in his chest. Everything after that was blank…that definitely wasn't good.

"Greg…can you hear me?"

He blinked furiously up at the man. "Ni-Nick?"

Nick grinned, gently gripped the blonde's shoulder. "Hey buddy. How are you feeling?"

Greg frowned. He felt fine- well his chest somewhat burned as did his stomach, maybe a little groggy and nauseous, but that was it- why was Nick asking how he was feeling? "Where am I?"

"The hospital. You were shot remember?"

Greg's eyes widened. "N-No." He started to get agitated. "What are you talking about?"

"Easy man, you're okay now. It's been a few days since it happened."

"I remember the conference getting shot up but after that…oh no. Nick are Morgan and Sara…are they-"

"They're fine, man. Morgan had been sitting with you every single day since you got here. I think Sara might've taken her to eat something since she refused to leave. Sara and I finally got through to her today."

"What about you?"

"I've been here the same amount of time that she and Sara were here. It was pretty bad for a while, you were in critical condition and were on a breathing tube, but you're okay now. The doc said your fever is going down, the infection is gone and your wounds are healing."

Greg nodded and yawned, starting to calm down a little.

"You should get some rest, bud, you got a long road to recovery. And I'll make sure the girls are here the next time you wake up."

The blonde closed his eyes and smiled weakly before his body relaxed and his breathing deepened. Nick smirked, smoothing the kid's hair before going to look for Morgan; she was going to be so excited about this news.

Four hours later, Greg woke up again feeling a little better, though his chest still ached. Rubbing his eyes, Greg looked around the room to find it empty. Hadn't Nick been here a few moments ago?

"Nick?"

All of a sudden, he saw a man with a gun pass his door, stopping to smirk at him before walking away. Gasping, Greg began pulling out his IV's; he had to save the hospital staff…and Morgan. Nick said she was here somewhere and he couldn't let her get hurt either. Swinging his legs over the bed, Greg got to his feet and stumbled out the door. He could immediately feel the effects of not being on pain medication. His chest burned and his vision was blurry. Squeezing his eyes shut a few times, he could see two people with guns walking away from him…or was it one and his vision was doubling?

"H-Hey…stop!" He wheezed.

The man turned around and chuckled. "You're pathetic." He then pointed his gun at…Morgan. Where did she come from?

"D-Don't…don't hurt her. Please." He felt so sick right now and was having a hard time keeping upright. "Please."

"Too late." The man pulled the trigger and Morgan went down.

"No!"

Greg shot up from the bed, sweating profusely. He could feel someone restraining him, but he wasn't sure who or what the hell was going on.

"Greg! Greg, stop you're okay! You're safe now!"

_Was that Morgan's voice? It couldn't be, she was killed, right?_

"Greggo, wake up, you're having a nightmare."

Snapping his eyes open, the blonde scanned the room to see Nick, Morgan and Sara standing by his bed looking terrified. "What…what's going on?"

"You were dreaming, man," Nick said, placing his hand on Greg's shoulder. "You started freaking out all of a sudden and muttering things. You literally almost got out of bed, too."

Sara pressed a hand to Greg's forehead. "You are warm; maybe it's the fever coming back, I'll go find the doctor."

Nick glanced between Morgan and Greg. "I'll go with you."

Then it was just the two youngest alone in the room.

"Are you okay?"

Greg tried to get his breathing back to normal and nodded with a sigh. He felt like crap.

Morgan saw this and pressed her hand against Greg's burning hot face. He seemed to relish the coolness of her palm, leaning into it.

"You scared the hell out of me," Morgan said. "I really thought you were going to die. And you promised you would be careful."

Greg smiled sheepishly before raising his good arm and taking Morgan's hand in his. "I'm sorry. I swear it's not gonna happen again."

Morgan chuckled. "It better not. I mean, you need to be conscious to ask me out right?"

Greg's eyes grew wide. "What?"

"I really like you Greg…I mean _really_ like you a lot. There was so much blood and then you stopped breathing and I…I thought I was never gonna have the chance to date you."

"Date me? You wanna go out with me?"

Morgan smiled and nodded.

Greg's cheeks turned red, but he grinned. "I thought you'd never ask." He tightened his grip on her hand while they beamed at each other, probably looking like idiots, but not caring.

"It's gonna be a few days before you get out of here," Morgan said, breaking the silence. "But once you recover, we can have our first date."

"I'd like that."

"Why not start now?" Nick said, barging in with Russell and Sara in tow.

The two let go of each other's hand but Russell chuckled. "Relax guys we know; actually we've been wondering how long it would take for you to finally get together." He held out his hand and Nick grumbled, pulling out his wallet to give the man a fifty.

"What's that for?" Morgan questioned.

"We bet on it too," Sara shrugged, also handing Russell a fifty. "I thought after the helicopter incident, Nick thought you would get together almost a month after you met and Russell guessed around five years."

"Yeah," Nick muttered. "Thanks a lot; you guys have been dancing around each other for years, you couldn't at least kissed or something? I'm out fifty bucks now!"

"Oh, stop your whining," Russell laughed.

Greg rolled his eyes and then took Morgan's hand again raising an eyebrow. "So what did you mean by starting now?"

"We brought pizza," Nick said, grabbing a box from the hallway. "Well, more like smuggled it in."

Greg made a face. "Thanks, but no thanks. I can't even think about food right now, you guys go on without me." He glanced at Morgan. "We'll have an official date when I don't feel like throwing up."

"Good, more for me," Nick dug in and the rest of the team laughed.

They all talked for about ten minutes before Greg started getting drowsy and they left to let him sleep. Morgan stayed behind, keeping vigil, stroking his arm, until he woke up again and when he did, they talked about them and their futures, happy that they finally let their feelings out for each other. Greg smiled as he listened to Morgan talk. This girl was the one; she was the one worth sacrificing his own life for, she was worth more than his job, she was the one he was going to marry…no doubt about it.

**FIN**

**Sorry for the sappy/crappy ending. I wanted to finish this as quickly as possible because I've made you wait so long! Hope you liked it! Stay tuned for more!**

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**Reviews are love and inspiration!**


	33. Bully

**Bully**

_**Prompt for: Anonymous: I would love if you could do one where Greg feels like he's getting replaced by a newcomer-lab or field- or where he is being bullied in the lab by a couple people**_

**Enjoy! BTW, sorry for the super long wait, I didn't think that anyone was still reading plus school is keeping me too busy!**

Greg stared silently into the breakroom at the team as they sat there and ate their lunch. Normally, he would join them, but lately he had been feeling left out…he felt like he was being replaced and it was all because of the new lab tech they hired. Phil Erickson; to the team, he seemed like a great guy, but to Greg he was completely different…like he was purposely trying to get rid of him. Sighing, he turned around and went to go eat in his car instead. It was clear the team wanted Phil around more, especially since they were giving most of the work to the guy. He didn't understand though; was he that good of a worker and was _he_ that bad? And he assumed no one knew this guy had another side to him, because he was only mean to him. He would purposely knock something over on Greg's table and then just walk away, knowing Greg wouldn't say anything…because he threatened him. The second day Phil started working, he pushed Greg into the shower- thankfully he was fully clothed- turned on the water so that no one else would hear and said not to mess with him and if he told anyone, he would hurt him. Greg didn't doubt that Phil was capable of violence. He was more or less the same build as Nick and just being thrown into the shower and his arm pinned against the wall left a bruise on his wrist. Thankfully, it was getting colder now that fall was coming around and he could wear long sleeve shirts without getting weird looks, but he knew right then and there that if he valued his life, he should steer clear of the new guy. Wiping his eyes, he threw his sandwich back into his lunch bag and stared at the purple bruise, suddenly not so hungry anymore. He knew that if it started to get worse, there would be no choice but to quit…and maybe even leave town, because then there would be questions. And questions led to answers and answers led to Phil most likely killing him. He couldn't take that chance. He just didn't understand, what the hell did he do?

The next day, Greg got arrived to the lab early, hoping to have some work to do, but only finding a small pile of things that would take about twenty minutes. Before Phil arrived, he would have at least a couple hours' worth. Any normal person would be happy they didn't have to do that much, but he loved his job and he loved the work and right now it showed him that the team would much rather have Phil do the work…that they would rather toss him aside and slowly drive him out.

"Hey G, what are you doing here so early?"

Greg turned around and saw Nick strolling into the lab with a cup of coffee in hand.

"Wanted to get started on whatever you guys what me to do," he said, trying not to sound eager.

Nick slapped him on the arm. "Don't worry about it, man. Phil's already on it; that's why I'm here actually. He finished late last night and I'm gonna go take the new evidence and follow up on some leads."

"Oh…okay. You don't have anything else for me?"

"No, but maybe Ecklie does. He's always looking for something to make you do, right?" He smirked and left the room. Greg sat heavily on the stool and sighed.

"Right," he muttered. Was there even a point for him being here anymore?

The day went by slowly, because he didn't have much to work on so he was extremely bored. At lunch, he went out to his car again, not wanting to see the rest of the team moving on from him. Just as he went to unlock the door, someone slammed his head down, making him smash his face against the metal frame. Almost immediately, he could feel the warm blood gushing out of his nose and down his face. Blearily, he looked up from his place on the ground to see Phil…of course.

"W-Why are you doing this to me?" He choked.

"Because I'm trying to get rid if you, obviously. Can't you see that no one wants you here anymore? They want me, Greg. You're worthless…I wouldn't be surprised if Grissom fired you within the next few days. Maybe you should start looking at other jobs."

Tears ran down Greg's cheeks. "Please…what did I do to you?"

"Nothing. You just match the description of all my other victims; pathetic weaklings." "O-Other victims?" Who the hell was this guy?

"And you'll be one of them if you say anything at all. You're lucky your friends would notice you were missing…but pretty soon that won't be a problem because they'll forget about you in a heartbeat." He wrapped his meaty hand around Greg's throat, pressing him against the car. "And if you ever talk to Nick again, I'll break your neck…and you know I can." He let go and Greg started coughing and gasping for air. "Better watch your back Sanders," Phil chuckled before leaving.

The blonde sat there for a moment, trying to register what the hell just happened. What did he mean 'other victims?' Did Grissom really know who he hired? Trembling and trying to hold in the tears, Greg got up, got in his car and drove home, staunching the blood the entire way. He felt sick knowing that this guy was most likely capable of murder. He didn't even bother letting anyone know he was leaving…they probably wouldn't care anyways. When he got home, he cleaned up and stared at himself in the mirror, seeing a huge bruise spreading across his nose and underneath his eyes.

"Shit." How was he gonna explain that? God, this was a nightmare. Greg's knees went weak and he sunk to the bathroom floor, sobbing quietly. It was only Wednesday and he didn't think he could take much more of this abuse…this fear. It was a decision he had to make. His life or his job. He sat there for what seemed like hours, resting his head against the wall and mulling things over. All signs pointed to quitting as much as he didn't want to. After a while, he grew exhausted and decided to go to bed early. Just as Greg got up to got to his bedroom, there was a knock on his door. Frowning, he walked over and opened it.

"Greg, where the…holy shit, what happened?"

It was Nick. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to ask you the same question. You just left work without telling anyone."

"I didn't think you'd care," Greg muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"What happened to your face?"

"I, um, I went to get something from my car and I hit myself with the door. My nose started bleeding and so I came here to clean up."

"Greg, you've been gone for hours. You weren't answering your phone."

Oh, he didn't even think to check his phone. "I'm sorry. Is Grissom mad? Or Catherine?"

"I covered for you, saying you were helping me with a lead, but you should get back before they get suspicious."

Greg contemplated on going back since clearly they noticed he was gone, but did they care? Probably not. What was the point, they had Phil. Even if he did end up going back, Phil would see he returned with Nick and then get pissed and hurt him again. No, he couldn't let that happen. "Actually, I'm feeling pretty lightheaded and nauseous. I'll call Catherine and say I got sick and you brought me home."

"Greg-"

"I'm sorry, Nick, I didn't mean to piss you off or scare you." He began to shut the door, but the Texan stopped it.

"Greg, man, what's going on with you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

Nick looked the kid over sadly. Something was wrong with his friend and he clearly didn't want to tell him what. And maybe he was seeing things, but it looked like there was a small bruise around his neck.

"Nick, I'm really tired and I don't feel good," he massaged his neck, knowing Nick was staring at the bruise Phil most likely made. "I'll call Cath-"

"No, don't worry about telling her, I'll let her know what happened. You just get some rest; you look like crap."

Greg smiled weakly. "Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow." With that he shut the door and then leaned against it, letting out a deep breath. He hated lying, but it was the only way to keep himself safe. He just had to last two more days and then he could get the hell out of here.

Nick sighed, listening to Greg's retreating footsteps. Something was wrong with the man and he was determined to find out what it was.

~+CSI+~

Thursday went by with no events, though Phil kept glaring at him like he knew something and that unnerved him. Did he find out Nick came to his apartment? To be safe, he steered clear of everyone, only talking to them when they needed evidence. He felt so alone; he felt like he was in high school, being bullied by the popular kids and being so isolated. The only reason he didn't crack was because of his passion for science and knowing one day he would be better than all of them…but he didn't think it would happen again. Friday came and everything seemed to be okay until he left for the day. Whatever pissed Phil off, _really_ pissed him off.

Nick watched as Greg left. The kid hadn't been himself the past week. He was avoiding them all, he was quiet, wouldn't smile or laugh, he was also weirdly jumpy. Every time he went to go talk to the blonde, he would make some excuse and leave. This wasn't the Greg he knew. This wasn't the Greg he liked.

"Hey Nick," Phil said, coming into the breakroom. "What's up?"

Phil was also acting weird. The guy wouldn't leave him alone and would always suck up to Catherine or Grissom or hit on Sara. Well, Greg did that to her too sometimes, but it was harmless and to the woman, it was cute and they had known Greg for nearly three years. With Phil, it was just creepy and he had only been around for a couple weeks. All in all, no one really liked him anymore. Even his work had started to slack; Nick was sure Phil only did it to impress them, Greg did it because he loved doing it period.

"Not much. Shouldn't you be working on that DNA Catherine gave you to get done before you leave?"

"Yeah, I'm running it right now."

Nick snorted inwardly. What that really meant was he hadn't even gotten to it.

"Don't worry, Nick, I'm still much better than Greg. He's actually gotten worse, don't you think? Pathetic."

"Are you?" Nick said, unable to hold back. He didn't like anyone bad-mouthing his friend. "Don't fucking talk about him like that. And if I find out you're saying those things to his face, I'll kill you."

"Why do you think I would be doing anything to him? Did he say something?"

Nick frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Phil ground his teeth together. "Nothing…I'm gonna go check on the evidence."

Nick stood there in confusion. Phil was acting strange. He never said anything about _doing_ something to Greg. Grissom and Catherine were already gone, so he guessed he would have to wait until Monday to bring it up. Little did he know it would be too late by then.

Greg yawned as he trudged to his car. Monday he would be regrettably handing in his resignation. The abuse and threats weren't gonna end unless he was dead or if someone found out. But no one was going to. Phil was careful. He was about to pull out his keys when something smashed him brutally over the head, sending him to the ground. Dazed, he rolled onto his back just in time to see Phil's furious face before he was kicked in the stomach.

"What did you say to Nick?" He snapped.

Greg gasped, trying to get away. "I didn't say anything I swear!"

"Liar! I guess we're gonna have to do things that hard way, Greggo and you're definitely not gonna like it." He gripped the crowbar in his hands, raising it above his head.

"N-No…please don't. I'm leaving town, no one will ever hear from me again."

"You got that right, kid." He brought down the bar and all Greg felt was a brief flash of pain before everything went dark. Phil chuckled as Greg's body went limp before picking the blonde up and throwing him over his shoulder. He threw the kid into the back of his trunk, quickly grabbing a roll of duct tape and binding his wrists and ankles together along with placing a piece over his mouth. Making sure no one saw, he slammed the hood, got into the car and drove away. Thank god it was the weekend and no one would notice the both of them missing…and by the time the team realized Greg was…well, he would probably be dead. There was only room for one genius in this lab.

~+CSI+~

**Monday Night**

Catherine frowned as she hung up her phone for the third time after receiving no answer from the youngest lab tech. He was an hour late and it was very unusual for him. Nick, Sara and Warrick had gone straight to a crime scene and Phil had gotten here early to get a head start on their newest case.

"Gil," she said, poking her head into the man's office. "Have you seen Greg at all?"

"He's not in the lab?"

"No, it's just Phil."

Grissom made a face just hearing the name. "Maybe he knows. Let me know if you find him. I'll talk to Nicky and see if he's heard from him this weekend."

Catherine bobbed her head and went into the DNA room. "Hey Phil, have you seen Greg?"

The man looked up and it surprised her when she saw he had a black eye. If she had looked ever closer, she would've seen the scratches on his hands. He didn't expect Sanders to put up a fight when he opened the trunk, got in a couple swings, even duct-taped, hence the bruised eye. He was forced to knock the kid out again before crossing the lake to his hidden cabin. He loved the place. It was quiet, peaceful and no one could hear his victim's screams.

"No, I haven't; why is he not here?"

"No…what happened to your eye?"

He chuckled. "Walked into a door. Clumsy me."

Catherine bit the inside of her cheek. Something was weirding her out about Phil, but she couldn't place it. "Well, be more careful next time."

When Catherine turned her back, the smile fell from Phil's face. He was gonna have to get rid of Greg once and for all after work and then get the hell out of dodge. It had been fun torturing the kid, but he hadn't been caught yet and he wasn't about to be caught now. Taking a deep breath, he got back to work.

"Nick, where are you guys?" Grissom said when the Texan picked up.

_"Driving back from the crime scene, why?"_

"Have you talked to Greg at all this weekend?"

_"No, but I saw his car earlier before we left. Isn't he there?"_

"Catherine's been looking for him, but he's nowhere to be seen."

Nick felt nauseous. He had a really bad feeling in the pit of his stomach that Phil might've actually done something to Greg, but he had no probable cause besides the guy being fucking creepy.

_"Nick?"_

"We'll stop by his place and see if he's there." For all he knew, something could've been wrong with Greg's car Friday and he called a taxi. But it seemed weird for the kid not to tell anyone where he was or why he wasn't at work.

_"Alright, update me when you do."_

Nick hung up and gripped the steering wheel nervously.

"What's wrong?" Sara asked from the back.

"That was Gris…he said Greg never showed up to work. I told him we'd go to his apartment and check on him."

"Do you think something happened to him?"

He didn't even want to think about that, but by the way Greg had been acting and the bruises and Phil's sketchiness, he had to. "I don't know."

When the three showed up at Greg's door, Nick knocked loudly, but nothing happened.

"Greg! You in there man?!"

Silence.

He couldn't wait any longer. Without thinking, he kicked down the door and strode into the room.

"Was that necessary?" Warrick questioned.

Nick didn't reply, instead just scanning the room. There was nothing out of place, no sign of a struggle…but there were bags packed in his room.

"Greg?" Sara called. They spread out and started searching for anything out of the ordinary…and then Warrick found it.

"Nick…did you know Sanders was quitting?"

The Texan frowned and walked into the kitchen. "What? What are you talking about?" He took the paper from Warrick and skimmed it. It was a normal resignation letter, but it was far from normal, because when he reached the bottom, there was another piece of paper and he saw something that made his heart skip a beat.

_"…P.S. I'll be long gone by the time you have read this, but I didn't want to leave. If you find this letter before I turn it in, something bad happened to me. I wanted to tell someone, but he promised he would kill me if I did. Phil is not who you think he is. He's been torturing me since day one. I don't know what I did for him to hate me. He's the one who slammed me into my car nearly breaking my nose, he tried to choke me and now he's probably killed me. I'm sorry I didn't tell any of you. I really screwed up."_

Nick's whole body was shaking after he finished reading. He something was up with the both of them…he should've told Grissom about whatever it was on Friday instead of waiting the entire weekend. Now it might be too late. He was ready to kill this guy; no one hurt his little brother.

"Nick? What's wrong man?" Warrick asked.

"Call Grissom," he growled dangerously.

"What?"

"Phil had been bullying Greg all this time and we hadn't done anything about it. How did we not see the behavior change in the kid? This is officially a missing persons case. Phil has something to do with Greg's disappearance."

"You guys," Sara said, putting her phone down. "I just called Gris and he said Phil is gone."

"What are you talking about?" Nick said angrily. "He was there earlier wasn't he?"

"Apparently he just got up and left."

"He probably realized we were on to him."

"Well, Grissom is putting out an APB for the both of them and he wants us to go to Phil's to see if there's anything that will help us figure out where he is or where he took Greg."

Nick just stood there silently, staring at the letter. Sara and Warrick shared a worried look. "Nick you alright, man?"

"Greg was suffering and I knew there was something wrong and I didn't act on it. Maybe if I had pushed him into talking, maybe if I had told Grissom…" he slammed his fist on the table. "God dammit!" Phil might've had Greg since Friday, who knows what the bastard did to him.

"We're gonna find him, Nick," Sara said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We're gonna find him."

The Texan ran nervous fingers through his hair. "I hope you're right."

~+C+~

Phil burst into his cabin, pissed and anxious. They were trying to figure out where Greg was which was surprising that they noticed this quickly. Catherine seemed suspicious of him and he overheard Grissom talking to Nick on the phone asking if he had seen the kid. It wouldn't be long before they figured out he was behind all of it. So he had to get rid of the blonde as soon as possible. No body no conviction, that's how it's always been. Well, Greg was a bit of a leap from all the homeless people he had been murdering. Even though he did get away with it the last time he killed his co-worker. But he hasn't been caught then and he wasn't about to be caught now. He clomped down the stairs to the cellar where he had been keeping the little bitch. He found the kid curled up in the corner, shackled to the wall and still bleeding from his torturing session last night. He looked pathetic; bruised, shivering, _cowering._ Though it looked like he was barely lucid, most likely due to the fever that one of the many infections gave him.

"Wake up, sunshine, the fun has finally come to an end." He kicked the man in the shin, startling him alert.

Greg coughed, his chest hurting immensely. His whole body hurt and he wished for the cold darkness. But he would only get it when Phil was gone; the man refused to let him sleep all weekend and though he really didn't know how long it had been since the asshole kidnapped him, he assumed it was Monday since it was the first time Phil had been gone for longer than an hour. He just prayed the team noticed he was missing; he didn't know how much more torture he could take. He had been beaten, burned, choked, stabbed, cut, probably lost a huge amount of blood and his shoulder ached…most likely dislocated. All in all, he wasn't feeling too hot. His head pounded, his wounds pulsed, he was thirsty- only being allowed one water bottle to last however long he was gonna be stuck down here- he was hungry, cold and tired. He wanted it all to end and if that meant dying, then so be it. At least then, he would be away from all the pain, physical and emotional. Not only did Phil nearly torture him to death, he also tortured him with put downs until he began to believe them himself. Would the team even care if he was missing? Or if he was dead? _No, they won't Greg. They'll be glad you're gone._ Tears slipped down his face. This was it.

"W-What are you gonna do with me?" He trembled.

Phil chuckled. "I'm gonna put you out of your misery, Greggo. Isn't that what you wanted all weekend? Your friends seemed to notice you were missing, so I gotta get rid of the evidence."

Greg choked a sob. "Please…just let me go. I won't tell anyone what you did."

"I find that hard to believe. No, it's just better for all of us if I kill you." He closed in on Greg, laughing as the blonde made a sad attempt to move away.

"No! Please!"

Phil straddled Greg's hips, holding him down as he wrapped his hands around the blonde's neck. "Goodbye Greg." He squeezed the man's throat tightly, relishing the sound of Greg gasping frantically for air. His eyes were wide with fear, he weakly tried to scratch off Phil's hands with his unchained one, but it didn't work. He felt his movements grow slow and pretty soon his vision tunneled and quickly after, he blacked out. It was over. He was dead.

When Greg stopped moving, Phil jumped up and removed the shackle from the wall, binding Greg's other wrist instead. _Just in case._ It was time to get rid of the body.

~+C+~

"Please tell me you found something on this guy," Nick asked as they entered the layout room.

Grissom shook his head. This was a nightmare. Greg was missing and Phil, a guy with a blacked out file, most likely had him somewhere.

"There's not much, except he was suspected of murder of one of his co-workers a while back. He was let go, though, because they found no body."

"Oh god," Nick's legs went weak. What if he did that to Greg?

Warrick sighed. "Well, we didn't find much at his apartment, mostly because it looked like he didn't really move in at all. The landlord said he was quiet and paid on time. Nothing out of the ordinary. Sara is with Archie, hoping to see if this guy has any other property as well as trying to pin his or Greg's phone. No luck so far."

"Scratch that," Archie said, poking his head in the doorway. "Asshole forgot to shut off his phone and I found his location. It's weird though, it says he's on the other side of Lake Mead, in our jurisdiction, still, but what's out there? There's nothing but forest or desert."

"He must have a place out there. How far?"

"Quickest route is half an hour."

"Greg could be dead by then," Nick groaned.

"Two choppers are gonna be here in five minutes," Catherine chipped in, getting off her phone. Grissom did the same. "Brass is notifying the Coast Guard stationed in the Callville Bay to start heading over."

Nick rubbed his forehead and Sara squeezed his arm. "We're gonna get him back, Nick. Don't worry."

"I know we will, I just…I'm scared of what Phil might've done or is doing to him."

"Let's not think about that right now," Grissom said. "Let's just focus on getting him out alive and throwing Phil in jail."

They all took a deep breath, silently praying.

"We should get up on the roof," Catherine suggested. She hated herself right now. It had been clear Greg was acting differently and she failed to ask him what was wrong or just be there for him. The kid could be fighting for his life or worse because they had all been so careless. _Please be okay, Greg. We can't lose you._

Ten minutes later, they were hovering over what looked like an abandoned cabin almost on the edge of the lake. But they all knew it wasn't abandoned and Phil had Greg in there. The copter lowered them down until they were able to hop off. Nick wasted no time raising his gun and running over the building, kicking down the door. He was out for blood.

"Phil Erickson, LVPD!"

The rest of the team and some officers filed in behind him and they all began checking the rooms. But everything was empty…until Warrick found the basement door all the way in the back.

"Guys, down here!"

They filed down the stairs and gasped in utter horror. The stench of vomit, blood, and the ever so familiar scent of rotting flesh wafted into their nose, causing them to gag. And bones.

"Holy shit," Brass muttered. "What the hell was this guy into, Gris?"

"No idea." He apparently didn't look into Phil good enough. That or his background check gave them fake results.

"There's fresh blood over here," Sara said, trying not to break down. "You think it's Greg's?"

Before anyone could answer, an officer shouted from upstairs. "He's on the boat dock!"

They all briefly looked at each other before scrambling up the stairs and outside to the back where the boat landing was. It went pretty far out into the lake, but there was no mistaking Phil's bulky frame.

"What is he carrying?" Warrick asked.

Nick squinted, moving closer. And then his heart stopped when he realized what it was…and what he saw. It was a rolled up carpet with a sneakered foot hanging out the end. Greg.

"Greg!" He was praying the kid was still alive.

Startled, Phil turned around, his eyes going wide. Before anyone had a chance to move, Phil hefted the bundle into the water.

"No!" Nick bolted forward, Warrick at his side.

"You get Greg!" The older man gasped. "I'll deal with Phil."

Nick didn't even really hear Warrick, completely focused on getting his little brother out of this alive. Phil jumped into the water and started to swim away, but the Coast Guard pulled up and pointed their guns at him, forcing him to surrender. Nick's shoes pounded on the wood, his breath coming out in raspy puffs. When he got closer to the edge, he shed his gun and vest before diving into the water. The rug was nowhere to be seen and that made him panic even move.

"Greg!" He sputtered, treading water before taking a deep breath and going under. It was murky and hard to see. He was afraid he wouldn't get to the kid in time if it wasn't too late already. His lungs were burning, yearning for oxygen and if he was already having a hard time breathing, god knows how bad Greg was having it. Just when he was about to go up for air, the bright red of the carpet caught his eye. It was starting to unravel thankfully and when he swam closer, he opened it up more and saw his friend. Pale as a ghost, bruised, clothes torn and eyes shut. And it didn't look like he was breathing. _Oh fuck._ Not wanting to waste any more time, he pulled Greg's body out and propelled himself to the surface. He inhaled hungrily and it terrified him that the blonde wasn't doing the same.

"Greg, please wake up," he choked. "Help!"

Hands appeared and took a limp, water-logged Greg from his grasp, pulling him onto the dock. With shaky arms, Nick lifted himself up and crawled next to his friend, silently crying. "Greg? Greg!" He took the man's cold face in his hands before shaking him. "Greg, please don't do this." There was a dark hand shaped bruise forming on Greg's throat and he knew that the kid might not have been breathing before he was dumped. Nervously, he placed his fingers on the blonde's neck to feel for a pulse. "No…no, no, no, no. Greg! Greggo, please wake up man. Please wake up, don't leave me."

"Nick!" Catherine shouted. "You need to start CPR."

In shock and shivering from the ice cold water, Nick nodded and began doing compressions. Water mixed with tears dripped down his face as he pressed down on Greg's chest. Each crack of the bone made him cringe, but it was worse that the man's body just sunk underneath the pressure. "Greg, please. Please come back."

When he was done, Catherine silently breathed into Greg's mouth. Nick hovered his ear over Greg's heart, but didn't hear anything. Only complete silence. "G-Going again. Greg, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He continued in a mantra, hoping that Greg would wake up and tell him it was okay. "Dammit! Greg, come back you idiot! I can't lose you, please just fucking breathe!" They went like this for four minutes until the Texan grew tired. But he couldn't give up. Not with Greg.

"Nick…Nick stop."

"No." His arms ached, willing him to stop, but he wasn't listening. He wasn't listening to his burning muscles or to Catherine.

"Nick, man, he's gone," Warrick added.

"No, he's not. He's gonna come back. He has to."

"Nicky-"

"No!"

Hands tried to pull him away, but he wouldn't let him. Greg was so cold, he had to wake him up and get him some blankets.

"Nick, I'm sorry."

He sobbed heavily, bringing Greg's limp body into his arms. "He's so cold…god I'm sorry, Greggo. I should've seen what was going on. This is my fault."

The team stood around Nick, speechless, angry, and sad, the only sound being the water splashing against the dock and the Texan's cries. Nick couldn't move…he wouldn't move. He never wanted to let go of his best friend. He buried his face into the blonde's damp curls and closed his eyes. _I'm so sorry, buddy._

All of a sudden, Greg's body jerked into his arms and he began coughing and gagging violently, trying, but failing to sit up.

"Holy shit. Greg, you're okay, it's okay." _Thank you, god._ They were all given a second chance and they definitely wouldn't be taking it for granted.

The man was, trembling, spitting out water, crying hysterically and hyperventilating, his fever-ridden eyes flicking all over the place.

"Get the medic!" Grissom shouted.

"Greg, shhh, just take it easy," Nick soothed, trying to calm the kid down. "You're safe now, Phil can't hurt you anymore."

Greg suddenly looked at him fearfully, but he didn't appear to be totally coherent. "M'I dead?"

"You're not dead man, we got you out."

"R-Real?"

"I'm as real as it gets, G. Are you okay?" That was a stupid question. Greg had been tortured and nearly died, of course he wasn't okay.

"H-Hurts. C-Cold."

Nick opened his mouth to say something, but Greg's eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body went slack in his arms. The Texan pursed his lips, brushing the man's bangs out of his eyes. This never should've happened…he was a sorry excuse for an older brother; for a friend. He tightened his grip around the small, shivering body, hoping to get him warm. Greg didn't need hypothermia above all the other injuries he obtained. Warrick shed his jacket and handed it Nick so that he could wrap it around the blonde. He carefully tucked it underneath Greg's chin and brought the man closer to his chest just as heard the propellers of the chopper fly over their heads. He took a deep breath and got to his feet, carrying Greg bridal style and walking back towards shore. He tucked Greg's head into his shoulder, protecting his face from the wind that started to pick up. "You're gonna be okay, kiddo. I'm gonna make sure of that."

~+CSI+~

Nick came out of the bathroom, changed in new jeans and a sweatshirt. He was still feeling cold, though he wasn't sure if that was from the shock or being in that water. Greg had been airlifted to the nearest hospital which was in Boulder City. It was a small town, but they said the hospital had very talented people. It had been almost an hour since Greg was taken into surgery. He didn't seem in danger; the whole ride in the helicopter was pretty calm except for his blood pressure dropping and his breathing getting shallow and weak. He remained unconscious, but Nick talked to him the entire time to make sure the kid knew he wasn't alone anymore. The rest of the team was sitting around or getting something to eat or a coffee. Nick went up to Grissom who was just getting off the phone with Brass.

"What's the update?"

"Phil is in custody, but we have enough evidence to put him away for good. There's human bones of people most likely going back years."

"Good. That son of a bitch deserves the death penalty, but I guess life in jail will have to do. I still can't believe this happened, I can't believe we didn't see what Phil was doing to him. God, I feel so guilty."

"It's not your fault. Greg's the one who didn't say-"

"Don't," Nick snapped. "Don't you dare blame this on him, Grissom. Phil was threatening him. I can't believe you would even bring that up." He walked away, trying not to say something to the older man that he would regret.

Another half hour passed before Greg's doctor finally came out. Thankfully, the young lab tech was stable and, though he was still unconscious, he was improving already. He had been dehydrated, malnourished, and sleep deprived; he had about five stab wounds, a dozen cigarette burns, a concussion, a dislocated shoulder, slight hypothermia, an infection causing a high fever, four broken ribs, a swollen larynx, water in his lungs, and many, many bruises.

"He's gonna be extremely sore," Dr. Reid sighed. "It's a miracle he survived, though since he was without oxygen for nearly five minutes, there is a possibility of brain damage or memory loss. Of course we won't know until he wakes up."

"And when will that be?" Nick questioned anxiously.

"It's up to him, but he needs all the rest he can get if he wants to recover."

"Can we sit with him?"

"Sure, just one at a time please. He is breathing on his own, but we have him using an oxygen mask just for precaution."

Nick had gone last, wanting to be with his best friend as long as he was allowed to. He inwardly choked up on how sick and pale the kid looked. This wasn't Greg, was it? His hands were cold and his breathing was raspy.

"I'm so sorry that this happened, buddy. I should've known Phil was strange in the head and I should've seen what he was doing to you or the very least asked you if something was wrong." He squeezed Greg's hand before smoothing back the blonde strands from his sweaty forehead. "You gotta be okay, man. You've come this far and you can't give up now. You're the best lab tech there is and you're the strongest person I know. I'm so proud of you, G, for pushing through this and you've won. Don't forget that. You won and Phil lost." He exhaled heavily and sat back in his chair. He wasn't leaving this spot until he knew he friend was gonna be okay. He didn't care how long it took.

**Three Days Later**

Nick was dozing when Greg finally regained consciousness. He was slumped forward in his chair, resting his head next to the kid's arm on the bed. It had been a long few days, but Greg was getting better; his fever was declining, his infection was clearing up and his breathing sounded a little better- not completely, but he was out of the woods. He sat up quickly when he heard a small whimper and realized that Greg was awake. His eyes were wide, still a little glassy from the fever and his face was masked with fear and pain.

"Hey," he sat forward on the chair and placed his hand on the blonde's shoulder, causing the younger man to flinch violently. "Hey, it's okay, bud, it's alright. You're safe now, Greg. You're at the hospital."

Greg swallowed thickly, scanning the area and to Nick's relief, he started to calm down. His muscles relaxed and the fear slowly ebbed away from his expression. "Ph-Phil?"

"He's gone, buddy, he's gone and you'll never see him again."

Greg nodded shakily, suddenly growing tired. He felt a hand on his good shoulder, gently forcing him to lay back down.

"Go back to sleep."

Sleep. It was something Phil hadn't allowed him to do for however many days he had been held hostage. But he was afraid to; what if this was all a dream? What if he woke up back in that cellar or worse…what if he didn't wake up at all?

"Greg, easy big guy," Nick said when the blonde started hyperventilating again. "I promise that this is all real and I'm real and Phil is never seeing the light of day again." He cupped Greg's face, stroking his cheek with his thumb. "It's over, man and I swear that I will never let this happen to you or anyone ever again."

Greg sniffed.

"So just close your eyes and rest, okay? I'm not leaving your side. And I'll wake you up if you start to have a nightmare."

Greg just stared at the Texan for a few moments before nodding and letting his eyes close. Within seconds, he was fast asleep. Nick sighed heavily, hating that this whole ordeal had really traumatized the kid. That a couple weeks had changed Greg's life completely. Damn, did they really screw up this time.

The next time Greg woke up he seemed a little better. He blinked wildly and glanced around the room. Where was Nick? Had hadn't been dreaming right? Starting to get worried, he tried to sit up, but the pain from his ribs prevented him from doing so, causing him to cry out.

"Greg, take it easy," a soft voice said next to him.

He frowned and looked to his right to see Catherine staring at him sadly.

"C-Cath?"

"Hey sweetie. Deep breaths, you're in the hospital, remember?"

The blonde nodded. "Y-Yeah. I r-remember." He rubbed his face and exhaled deeply. "Where's Nick?"

"I sent him home. He hasn't let your side for three days."

"I've been asleep for three days?"

Catherine smiled weakly. "You were exhausted. What Phil did to you was horrible; I _feel_ horrible. This was something that never should've happened and I'll- _we all_\- will do whatever it takes to make it up to you."

Greg looked down at his hands and sighed. "It's okay."

Catherine took his hand. "No, Greg it's not. We let that…that bastard torture you for weeks and then he kidnapped you and did whatever the hell he did to you for three days and-" she suddenly stopped when she realized Greg was crying. _Shit._ "Oh, Hun, I'm sorry I brought that up." She leaned forward and brought the blonde into her arms, running her fingers through his hair. "It's gonna be okay…you're gonna be okay." She rocked the man back and forth, shedding a few tears of her own. "I'm so sorry, kiddo. I'm so sorry." They stayed like that even when Greg stopped crying several minutes later. The younger man, unexpectedly chuckled, surprising the supervisor.

"What's so funny?"

"I'm tired again…you think I wouldn't be after sleeping for three days straight."

Catherine rubbed his arm. "You've had a rough couple of weeks, kid, it's your body's way of recovering. If you're exhausted, don't fight it okay?"

"Can you…can you stay?"

Catherine got up and moved to the bed so that she was sitting up next to the blonde. She wrapped an arm around his back and he took this as a cue to lay his head on her shoulder.

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

"Just go to sleep, Greg."

The lab tech smirked, closed his eyes and was out like a light. Catherine smiled and sighed. Poor kid. She sat like that for a few minutes and was about to close her eyes when there was a soft knock on the door. Glancing up, she saw Nick step quietly into the room.

"Hey," the Texan whispered and then noted Greg's position was different. "Did he wake up?"

"Yeah for about fifteen minutes. He just fell back asleep a few moments ago." She was glad that Nick had actually followed her orders to go home last night to shower, eat and sleep. He looked a lot better.

"I don't blame him." The Texan stepped in further. Greg was still pretty pale for his liking and he could see traces of tears on his still bruised face, but if he had woken up and was lucid, that's all he cared about. "How is he?"

"Not better, not worse. He's still coming to terms with what happened, though he's trying not to remember it."

Nick sat down and snorted. "Well, I wouldn't want to either. I can't wait to get my hands around that son of a bitch's neck."

"You and me both. Warrick and Sara are also in the same boat." She watched her surrogate son stare at the ground, hands gripped tightly in front of him. "How are you doing?"

He lifted his head and shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm fine."

Catherine rolled her eyes. "Bullshit."

Nick remained silent.  
"Nick…what you had to witness…you had done CPR on him for five minutes. We all thought he was dead. That's not something to forget; that's not something to be "fine" about. Tell me the truth."

"Okay, whatever, you're right. I'm not okay. Greg was dead; he died in my arms and I had _never_ felt so helpless in my entire life than I had right then. He's my little brother and I failed him. I failed. I don't think that I can ever forgive myself for this. I can't even sleep without having nightmares. That's why I had a hard time leaving; if I fell asleep and had a dream of Greg dying for good, at least I could wake up and see that it wasn't real." He stared at the blonde…at all the bruises, especially the darker one around his neck. "Jesus."

Catherine pursed her lips. "Come here."

Nick frowned, but did as he was told, walking over to Catherine's side.

"Take my spot."

"Huh?"

"You need it more than I do. He's alive, Nicky and you saved him, you didn't fail."

Nick exhaled through his nose and nodded. They carefully maneuvered Greg so that he wouldn't wake up and soon, Nick was sitting where Catherine had been, Greg's head resting on his chest. Catherine smiled. "Feel a little better?"

"I'll get there. Thank you, Cath."

She squeezed his shoulder and nodded before silently leaving the room. Nick sighed heavily and tightened his hold on the younger man. He began to relax from the rhythm of Greg's steady breathing and, pretty soon, let the beeps of the heart monitor lull him to sleep. He jerked awake about half an hour later when Greg shifted in his arms.

His body still felt sore as hell as did his head, but the drugs the doctor had him on were dulling it. Plus, he felt more relaxed and no longer terrified since Catherine was keeping him company. However, when he looked up, he saw Nick grinning back at him. What the hell?

"Nick?"

"Hey buddy."

"What…am I hallucinating?"

The Texan's eyebrows knit together. "What are you talking about?"

Greg yawned. "I swear I…I was laying on Catherine's boobs not yours."

Nick laughed for the first time in days. No matter what happened, Greg still had his strange sense of humor. He was glad. "I got here half an hour ago and we switched and I do not have boobs."

Greg chuckled before he was forced to stop when a coughing fit erupted.

"Need water?" Nick asked.

"Yeah," Greg grunted. "Thanks."

Nick got up and grabbed the pitcher of water, pouring it into a cup and handing it to the lab tech. After a few sips, Greg put it down on the nightstand and sighed. "It's not your fault you know."

"Greg-"

"No, I mean it. I don't blame you for any of this. I didn't exactly make it easy for any of you to find out. Stop beating yourself up; besides, you saved my life."

Nick exhaled and sat down. "It's not your fault, either, Greggo."

Greg looked away and Nick moved closer, placing his hand over the blonde's.

"It's _not_ your fault, you didn't do anything wrong, G. Phil was a fucking psycho and he had done this before. We just didn't know because his background check was fake and half of his real files were sealed. I'm so sorry that this happened to you and I will never forgive myself, but you can't keep thinking that you caused this to happen. You didn't."

Greg swallowed tersely and nodded with a weak smile. Nick smiled too, gently patting the man on his arm. "You're gonna be okay, man."

"I know I will." And he truly believed that. Phil was gone and he was not. He had won.

**FIN**

**A/N: Short ending, but I wanted to update quickly for you guys! Also not sure if there is actually a Coast Guard in Lake Mead but we'll pretend for this story. Hope you liked it, stay tuned for more. More reviews= more motivation!**

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_**Katie Shimkus**_

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**Stay tuned!**


	34. Sacrifice 2

**Sacrifice 2**

_**Prompt for: Unicorn: how about Greg sacrifices himself for Nick or Morgan**_

**Enjoy!**

It was pretty tense in the lab lately. Ever since Nick got buried alive, people were walking on eggshells around him. Thankfully, the team was back together again, Grissom convincing Ecklie to put them all back on the night shift, but things didn't seem the same. Greg hated it. He had tried to cheer Nick up, maybe help him out because it was clear that he was acting differently, but the Texan kept pushing him away. His was on edge a lot and his temper was short with everyone…however, it appeared to be shorter with him. He didn't know why, he thought they were friends and he was only trying to help. He attempted to steer clear of Nick most of the week and he'd succeeded so far until Warrick had court and Catherine put them on a case together.

"Hey Greg, you're gonna be teaming up with Nicky today," Catherine said, coming into the locker room where the blonde was putting his things away. He groaned, trying to conceal it, but she heard him.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Greg."

He sighed heavily. "It's just…he's short tempered with everyone lately and I'm afraid he's gonna blow up on me."

"He won't do that, Greg," Catherine scoffed.

"You don't know that. All I've been doing since he came back is trying to help, but he pushes me away. He's pushing us all away. Doesn't he know we're there for him?"

Catherine pursed her lips and sat down next to the younger man, placing a hand on his back. "Nick's been through a lot, Hun; something horrible that can't be easily forgotten. Just give him time. And if anyone can talk him through this, he'll talk to you. You're his best friend."

Greg snorted.

Catherine stood up with a smirk. "You'll be fine, Greg. Now go, Nick's waiting for you."

"Great," Greg muttered, washing both his hands down his face before grabbing his kit and leaving the building. When he got outside, Nick was waiting in the Denali, stone-faced. Greg put his kit in the back and hopped into the passenger side.

"It's about time," Nick grumbled, starting the car.

Greg remained silent, not wanting to set the Texan off and instead staring out the window the entire ride. Nick didn't even put music on. It was awkward…this wasn't the Nick he liked; maybe if he tried talking to him again, this would be the time he got through. Once they got to the scene, Nick went over to meet with Brass while Greg surveyed the scene; there was a man strung up to the street light at the end of a three-way intersection and maybe they would've guessed suicide had there not been a huge gunshot wound in his chest. He sighed heavily and began taking pictures. Not long after, Nick joined him and looked for evidence. Doc Robbins was a little late, but gave them the okay to touch the body if they needed to. Greg kept glancing at the Texan, wondering when it would be a good time to bring up the question.

"Hey Nick?"

"What?" The man replied in an annoyed voice.

Greg exhaled. "Are you sure you don't want to talk to me or at least someone about…you know…what happened? I hate that you're bottling everything up and-"

"Jesus Christ, Greg just let it go!" Nick snapped. "I don't need anyone's help or advice and I definitely don't want it from you! You will _never_ understand what I'm going through and you're too stupid to anyways! Now leave me the hell alone!" Without thinking, he pushed Greg out of the way, nearly knocking him off his feet. Greg watched in shock as Nick went to go talk to a witness. Tears burned his eyes, but he tried not to let what Nick said to him hurt his feelings. He knew he was just gonna make things worse. Wiping his face, Greg shakily began taking pictures. The next ten minutes went by really slowly and Greg really just wanted to go home. Nick's words were spinning in his head and it was making him sick; it made him wonder if he and the Texan were ever really friends. Taking a deep breath, he glanced over at the man who was squatting by a trail of blood left in the street and writing in his notepad. Greg was just about to head back to the car to run some prints he found on one of the victim's purses when he saw a car come out of nowhere, swerving dangerously, lights dimmed…and headed towards Nick. An oblivious Nick. Why wasn't he moving out of the way? Didn't he hear the car? Greg nervously looked at the vehicle getting closer to the Texan. There was only one thing to do; he dropped his things and bolted towards his friend. Yes, Nick was his friend even though the feeling wasn't mutual. Good thing he ran track all high school and college.

"Nick!" He wasn't really thinking about it…he knew he was probably gonna end up getting hit, possibly getting killed or just in a shit ton of pain, but none of that mattered to him right now. Nick had suffered enough this year. "Nick, watch out!"

Nick looked up just in time to see at car headed right towards him, inches away, leaving him no time to move and then he was pushed to the ground. He was waiting for the shock to subside and the extreme pain to hit him, but the only thing that hurt was the burning of his scraped hands. Did he get hit? Surely he would be near tears and tasting blood if he had. There was suddenly a hand on his shoulder and he looked up to see Brass saying something. Blinking furiously, sounds rushed back to him and he could hear shouting and sirens; he could also smell smoke and gas.

"Nicky! Are you alright?" Brass yelled.

"W-What happened?"

"That car almost hit you."

Nick glanced over at his right to see that a car had crashed into a telephone pole. How the hell did he…oh no. He remembered he heard Greg shouting his name before he ended up on the ground. Where was Greg?

"Where's…where's Greg?"

"Greg?"

"He pushed me." He scrambled to his feet, breathing heavily and scanning the area. The only light he got was from the two police cars and the very dim streetlamps. "He pushed me out of the way. Greg!?"

"He's over here!" An officer shouted, standing a few feet away from the front of the smoldering vehicle. The kid had been hit so hard he was thrown forward; Nick and Brass ran over and what they saw made their hearts shatter.

"I'll call 911 and Grissom," Brass grunted, pulling out his phone. Nick quickly got to his knees next to the unconscious blonde, his hands hovering over his broken body. "Oh god, oh god. Greg? Greggo, buddy?" He cupped the man's cut up cheek, hoping for a response. "Shit." Greg looked horrible. His body was sprawled out on the pavement, blood pooling underneath him. His right arm was bent abnormally, his breathing was raspy and uneven, like he was choking. Nick wanted to sit him up, but he was afraid of hurting the young CSI more. "Greg, please say something."

Suddenly, the blonde's eyes flew open and he gasped wildly, his eyes wide with fear.

"Greg! It's okay man, you're okay."

"Ni-Nick…g-god it…it hurts."

"I know it does, bud. Just breathe through it. Help is on the way." He tucked his hand underneath Greg's head, slightly lifting it up from the ground. The blonde started coughing harshly, blood dribbling out of his mouth. He was drowning in his own blood. "Oh god. Why did you push me out of the way?"

"Y-You've…you've been through…e-nough. Di-Didn't want you…t-to get hurt…'gain. Even if…we're n-not…f-friends."

Nick frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Greg coughed some more, crying slightly from the pain that crashed through his body. "H-Hurts…s-so much. C-Cold."

"Stay with me, man, please just keep breathing." Greg's eyes started to close. He slapped the man's face gently. "Greg! Don't you dare! Come on, look at me; look at me Greg." The brown eyes made a slight appearance, wearily staring at the Texan. Nick knew Greg wasn't all there right now; but he was fucking terrified. The blonde was literally dying in his arms. "Where are those damn medics!" There was so much blood. So much. God only knew how much internal injuries there were.

"M's-sorry…N-Nick…m'sorry I 'nnoyed you. Was s-stupid." More blood trickled out of his mouth and his breathing was turning into wheezing puffs. "S-Screwed…up." He was having a hard time staying awake. He was hurting bad and he just wanted to pass out…that would make everything feel better. If he just closed his eyes for a few moments, then he'd be okay.

"Greg…please just hang on, alright? The ambulance is right around the corner. Greg look at me please."

The blonde did, but only for a moment before his eyes slipped close, his body going limp. Nick's heart stopped and his face paled. "Greg?" Tears slipped down his face. "Greg!" This was all his fault; he had been so cruel to everyone…he was even worse to Greg and even after that, the kid still sacrificed his life for him. He should've been paying attention; god he was an idiot.

~+CSI+~

**6 Hours Later: 11:14pm**

Nick sat at Greg's bedside, his recently washed hands shaking violently. It had been bad; _really_ bad. Greg flat-lined in the ambulance and also on the operation table. There had been so much internal damage. A ruptured spleen, to a punctured lung which led to it being filled with blood, his hip was cracked, five of his ribs were broken, his left arm was broken in two places and he had a major concussion which resulted in a cracked skull and some swelling. His face was covered in multiple cuts and bruises; Nick didn't even want to know what the rest of his body looked like. What was even worse was the fact that Greg was in a coma. He washed a hand down his face and looked at the machines; the ventilator that was helping the kid breathe, the heart monitor beeping slowly, the IV's and the large tube that was inside Greg's head, hopefully helping with the intracranial swelling. The doctor said it was going to be touch and go for a while and that they should pray for his recovery. Nick listened to the raspy mechanical breaths of his friend and closed his eyes, hating himself for what he caused. Well, the drunk driver that had hit Greg was at fault, but if he had just been listening to Greg the first time instead of ignoring him, they wouldn't be in this situation.

"I'm so sorry, Greg," he whispered, clutching the blonde's cold hand. He had lost so much blood, the doctor said it was a miracle the kid was still alive. "I'm sorry. I've been such an asshole to you and all you wanted to do was help. I don't know why I pushed you or anyone else away. I'm just…I'm used to dealing with things on my own. I…fuck." There was no excuse. This all could've been prevented. "I'm sorry, buddy. Please wake up. You know I can't be sane without you…this job gives me nightmares and you're the only person I know that can see light and joke around to make things better. We all need you, Greggo. Don't give up on us." The only response he got was the sound of the machines and the blonde's raspy breathing. "Just hang in there."

Greg was in the coma for four and half days. Thankfully, though, he was improving and they were able to remove both tubes tube on the third day. Nick wanted to sit with him until he woke up, but he also wanted to wrap his hands around the drunk driver who did this.

"Nick, go," Catherine said, patting his back. "Brass and Grissom are about to book him, they said they would wait for you. Warrick and I got it covered here."

Nick pressed his lips together, looking at the unconscious CSI.

"Nick, man, Greg's gonna be fine. We'll call if anything changes. Just go kick that guy's ass."

The Texan sighed and nodded. He squeezed Greg's arm lightly before getting up and leaving the room. Catherine and Warrick sat down on each sides of the bed, watching as Greg breathed weakly but steadily.

"You think he's gonna be okay?" Warrick asked.

"Nick or Greg?"

"Both."

"I don't know. What if Greg never wakes up, you know? It's not only hurting us, it's hurting Nick. He said Greg pushed him out of the way and he told Nick the reason why was because he'd been through enough. I don't like it, but I respect how selfless he is. He would sacrifice his life for any one of us." She leaned forward and stroked his face. "Greg, you gotta come back to us. We need you." She gripped his hand and sighed. "Wake up sweetheart." She got no response, she bowed her head. All of a sudden, Greg's fingers twitched and curled around her palm. The woman's head snapped up and she smiled. "Greg?" His head rolled slightly on the pillow before he went still again. She didn't blame the kid for being exhausted, but at least he knew they were there. "You're okay now, Hun," she said, brushing back his hair. "You're okay." And for once since this entire ordeal, she believed it.

**9:43am**

Greg peeled his eyes open with a faint groan. His whole body felt like he had been hit by a truck. _Everything_ hurt; he could barely move without feeling pain. There was something underneath his nose that was giving him cold air and he recognized it as a nasal cannula.

"Greggo?"

Tiredly, his eyes slid to the left and Nick's face slowly swam into view. What was he doing here? Where was _here_ anyways? "Nick?" He coughed. A cup of water suddenly appeared in front of him and the Texan helped him take a couple sips. "Thanks."

"No problem, buddy. How are you feeling?"

Greg shrugged with his good arm. "Where am I?" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "It feels like a truck ran me over."  
"One did," Nick replied sadly.

"A truck hit me!?"

"Well no, a car did. You're in the hospital. It was pretty bad in the beginning; the doc didn't think you would wake up. You were in a coma."

Greg raised his brow. "I was? For how long?"

"Almost five days. You scared the hell outta me, man."

Greg looked down at his hands. He remembered now; everything surprisingly. "I pushed you out of the way."

"Why would you go and do something like that. Especially since I had been an ass to you for weeks."

"You didn't deserve it."

"And you did? Greg I thought you were gonna die."

"You were my friend. You would've done the same thing for me…I mean, I hope so. I just thought that maybe you wouldn't hate me anymore."

Wow…being a jerk to the kid did more damage that he thought. "Greg, I could never hate you. I've been a douchebag lately, not just to you, but to everyone. What happened to me is no excuse for my behavior."

"Nick-"

"No, just let me finish. I'm used to being the youngest and I'm used to dealing with things on my own. But all you were doing was trying to help me. I'm sorry for not letting you in. I thought you wouldn't be able to understand what I was going through, but even if you didn't I know you would've tried your best. I hope you can forgive me."

There were a few moments of silence before Greg spoke. "I do. I forgive you."

Nick grinned in relief; he wanted to hug the man, but he was afraid of hurting him. He settled for just gently squeezing Greg's hand. "Thank you. I promise I'll make it up to you. I really hate that you got hurt because of me, though."

Greg shrugged and smirked. "Don't worry about it, I'll be fine in a few weeks. You'll just be doing double the work until I get back and I know you'll be bored out of your mind since I won't be around to entertain you."

Nick laughed. "Warrick is pretty entertaining."

"Not as much as me."

"What about Grissom."

"Grissom is about as interesting as a beetle."

"Glad to see you're feeling better, Greg," Grissom said as he and the rest of the team filed into the room. Greg's face turned beet red and he looked at Nick for help.

"How are you doing?" Sara asked, cupping Greg's neck and saving him from Grissom.

"Really sore, my head hurts a little, too," he yawned, the long conversation starting to take a toll on him.

"Well, we're all glad you're awake," Catherine grinned. "You scared us."

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

They all knew that was a lie. If it had ever come to it, Greg would do it again. He would do anything- even if it meant risking his life- for anyone.

"Good," Warrick answered. "Someone's gotta keep Nick in line."

The Texan rolled his eyes and Greg chuckled. Grissom's phone suddenly beeped and he pulled it out to look at the message. "Sorry, duty calls. Warrick and Sara, Brass wants you to meet him at Sal's Diner for a robbery murder."

The two nodded. "We'll come see you later, Greg," Sara smiled. "Feel better okay?"

"Catherine, you and I have a double homicide at a home down in McNeil Estates."

Catherine sighed. "Wish we could stay with you longer, Hun, but like Sara said, we'll come back later."

The blonde smiled tiredly and nodded. Nick stood up as the two headed for the door. "I'll be right back, Greggo. Cath, I'll walk out with you." When they got into the hallway, Catherine turned around and stopped the Texan.

"Relax Nicky, we already have you on two weeks' vacation since you didn't take it after what happened with you."

Nick sighed. "Thank you." He went back into the room, ready to talk to Greg more, but instead, he saw that the kid had succumbed to his fatigue. He smiled and sat down, fixing the sheets before turning on the TV. He finally felt more normal than he had in weeks. And he knew he had Greg to thank for that.

**FIN**

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	35. Highway to Hell

**Highway to Hell**

_**Prompt for: Guest: **__**What if in the ep Appendicitment when Nick rolled the car things turned out a lot worse, especially for Greg?**_

**I have to admit that sometimes it's hard for me to write CSI stories nowadays since I don't have the wonderful inspiration of the show. However, I recently discovered ALL the seasons are on HULU and guess what I've been doing all weekend ;) I'm becoming re-obsessed with it and love it! So enjoy!**

It was supposed to be something so simple and straightforward. They were "kidnapping" Henry for his birthday to bring him to a well-known joint called Harry's Hog Hideout; he and Nick had gone there a couple times a few years back, even for their own birthdays. It was only right to continue the tradition.

"Look, what do you want from me?!" Henry shouted from the back of the car.

"You know what we want."

"I don't! I swear to God. I don't know anything."

"That's not what Harry says," a masked Nick replied.

Henry frowned. "Who's Harry?"

Hodges, Greg, and Nick chuckled.

"Don't be stupid Henry," Greg said. "Now's no time to play dumb. Cause Harry don't like it when people play dumb."

"Understand?" Hodges added, taking the knife that Greg had handed him.

"Please, look, if you just give me a hint, I'll tell you anything you want to know." The burlap sack was removed from his head and the knife was brandished in front of his face. "Oh my God! No!"

"Happy birthday Henry," Hodges said in a gruff voice.

"What?"

Everyone except for Henry laughed as they pulled off their masks.

"Happy birthday man!" Hodges said, pulling the man into a hug, only to be pushed away.

"You scared the crap out of me! What's the matter with you idiots?!" He hissed, hitting Nick on the shoulder.

"Hey, hey, come on! I'm driving! It was all for a laugh!"

"God," Henry rolled his eyes.

Greg smirked. "Henry, my friend, you are about to have the best birthday of your life, because we are taking you to the one, the only, Harry's Hog Hideout."

"What's a hog hideout?"

"It's only the best barbecue known to mankind," Nick grinned, turning onto a dirt road. "It's a little bit of a drive, but don't worry, Greg knows where it is."

"I thought you said you knew where it is," Greg frowned.

"It's just a bit of a drive, y'all," Henry mocked in his best impression of Nick's accent after they had been driving for a good fifteen minutes.

"Look, if this place, if it's so great, then how come I've never heard of it?"

"Come on, man," the Texan laughed. "A little trust, baby. Come on. It's your birthday."

"I hate my birthdays," Henry groaned. "They always suck." He looked up at the sky. "Oh great, we got a full moon tonight, too, so every nut job in the state will be out."

"I'm surprised at you, Henry," Hodges said. "There's absolutely no statistical evidence linking lunar cycles to an increase in irrational, careless, or criminal behavior."

Nick frowned as he saw a red vehicle swerving on the road and headed right towards them, making no attempt to remain on the right side of the street. He shared a look with Greg, wondering what he should do. This guy was clearly drunk, high, or both.

"Are you sure about that?" He shouted over the other car's honking.

The car didn't move and before they knew it, their car was being run off the road, dipping into the grassy shoulder. Nick tried to control the wheel, the vehicle went straight into a large bush, pushing the car off to one side and flipping it over. They all screamed at the top of their lungs as it rolled at least three times before ending upside down. All four were hanging from their seatbelts, neither one moving a muscle. Nick suddenly groaned, his vision blurry and his head pounding. He glanced over to his right and saw a glimpse of Greg. He wasn't moving and he was pretty sure he saw red…blood.

"Gr-Greg?" The second he tried to move, white hot pain shot through his chest and everything went black. When he came to, his body was screaming from the abuse; he heard several other groans. "Hodges, Henry, you both okay?"

"Ugh, my whole body feels like it was hit by a truck," Hodges groaned.

"Okay," Henry coughed. "This trumps all my sucky birthdays."

Nick smirked. "Greg?" He looked to his right and saw that Greg was still unresponsive and limp. "Greg!" He reached over and pat the blonde's chest. Nothing. "Shit." They had to get out of here. There was no telling if the car would blow up. "We gotta move and quickly."

"Is Greg alright?" Henry asked, carefully unbuckling and landing on the roof.

"I don't know," Nick said worriedly, doing the same while glancing at his unconscious friend. The three clambered out of the smoking car, groaning and gasping in pain, their bones and muscles not happy about being jerked around so roughly. Nick ignored his own injuries, like the shallow gash on his leg and the concussion he no doubt had, and rushed around to the passenger side. He got on his hands and knees, peering in through the broken window.

"Greg, man, can you hear me?"

Silence.

"Come on, kiddo." He quickly scanned the blonde's body for any visible injuries and his heart sunk at what he saw. Blood dripped from a good sized cut on Greg's temple and from his slightly open mouth. He prayed that was from a busted lip or bitten tongue instead of something internal. But as he continued to look, there was a huge rip on the side of Greg's sweatshirt that went all the way down to his skin where an angry red, bleeding gash made an appearance. "Dammit, G." They were all going to need some sort of medical attention, but Greg needed it the most…and fast. "Guys, a little help here. I'm gonna unlock the seatbelt and need you both to catch him."

The two lab techs nodded and within moments, Nick was gently dragging Greg out and away from the vehicle. When they got to a safe distance with thicker grass, Nick laid the blonde down and knelt by his side.

"Greg? Greggo, come on buddy wake up," he pat the man's face but he was getting nothing. God, he already looked so pale and his breathing didn't sound too good either. "One of you, see if you can get into the trunk and grab whatever's in there. Also, check to see if there's any service."

"There's not," Hodges proclaimed, putting his phone away while Henry tried to open the trunk. Nick unzipped Greg's sweatshirt and then lifted up the t-shirt, swearing silently at the damage he saw. Greg definitely needed a hospital. The Texan removed his jacket and pressed it against Greg's wound. He immediately got a reaction, the blonde's eyes snapping open and letting out a cry of pain.

"Easy, bud, easy. I got you, you're okay."

Greg wheezed and looked around in confusion. "Oh god, my stomach is killing me. What…what happened?"

"Car accident. Someone ran us off the road, remember?"

"Oh…right. Shit, everything hurts, Nick," Greg shivered.

"You have a gash on your stomach."

"I found some rags and flashlights in the trunk," Henry said, coming up to them.

"How bad?" Greg hissed, sitting up a little and watching as Nick turned the rags into a makeshift bandage for him.

Nick pursed his lips. "It's pretty bad, but you'll be okay. We just gotta find help. Cellphones don't work, but I know Harry's is about a mile up from where we were. Think you can walk?"

Greg exhaled shakily and nodded. "I can try."

Nick helped Greg to a stand, letting the kid lean on him when he swayed dangerously.

"You good?"

Greg nodded jerkily, wiping the blood from his forehead. He was aching all over and his stomach burned, but he wasn't going to show weakness in front of Nick and especially the lab techs. He gave Nick a forced smile and bobbed his head.

Nick was skeptical that Greg was okay; his face was drained of all color, even his lips were pale. From the moment Nick became friends with Greg, the kid always tried to be tough even if he was hurt. He would hide it. It wasn't a trait Nick particularly liked about the younger man, but he admired how strong he was. Greg wasn't going to admit how much pain he was, but he was going to be close by if something happened. Henry handed them all flashlights and Nick quickly went to grab the revolver he kept in the glovebox. He then removed his belt and made a tourniquet above his own wound to stop the bleeding. "Alright, let's move." The four got onto the road and began limping towards the restaurant. The longer they walked, though, the weaker Greg began to feel. He was hot, sweat soaking his t-shirt and dripping down his dirt covered face. But he had to keep going; he didn't want to slow everyone down. He was so focused on putting one foot in front of the other that he didn't hear Nick calling his name until the Texan was standing right in front of him.

"Greg. Greg!"

"Huh?"

"I called you five times."

Greg blinked and looked around to see Hodges and Henry staring at them and then the bright neon lights of Harry's. When had they gotten there? And when had it gotten dark? He shivered from the cold breeze that came out of nowhere. Wow, he was really out of it.

"Jesus, Greggo," Nick said, placing his hand on the blonde's forehead. "You're burning up."

"I'm fine," Greg choked out, trying not to puke.

"The hell you are, Greg. You can't te-" before Nick could finish, Greg's legs went weak and he fell into the Texan, his breathing raspier than before. "Shit. It's alright, buddy. I gotcha, just hold on. We're gonna head inside so you can sit."

"Uh, guys," Henry called out. "This doesn't look real open, does it?"

Nick draped Greg's arm around his neck, snaking his own arm around the blonde's waist, careful of the wound before they trudged over to the building. Hodges grabbed a paper off the door and read it aloud.

"Notice: 'Closed by the Board of Health. Suspected point of origin: a hepatitis B outbreak. Date of closure: 7-3-09."

"Oops," Nick said, hitching Greg higher on his hip. Well, this really pissed him off; Greg got injured for nothing.

"T-That was five months ago," Greg coughed, trying to regain his footing.

"Nice, you were gonna give me hepatitis for my birthday. Thanks," Henry groaned.

"Still got no reception," Hodges said dejectedly.

"Maybe there's a working phone inside," Nick suggested. "Let's take a look around. You good, Greggo?"

"Y-Yeah."

They started to scale the building, hoping for a way in. For Greg's sake, Nick was really hoping that there was a working phone inside. He didn't like how badly Greg was wheezing or shivering visibly or how the heat literally radiated off his skin.

"Greg, how are you feeling, man? And don't lie to me."

The blonde glanced up at Nick and sighed. "Everything h-hurts. But…but I'll be okay. I promise."

"Why do I have a hard time believing that?"

"C-Can we just focus on calling for help. I'll be fine once I sit down."

They rounded the corner and saw a broken window big enough for them to go through. Nick shone his flashlight into the dark building, scanning the area with the beam until it landed on something he didn't think he would be seeing. There was a man sitting on the floor, gun in hand and a raccoon covering his face. Neither one of them appeared to be moving.

"I think we got a dead body here, boys."

"Best birthday ever," Henry snorted.

Nick shared a look with Greg. "Alright, man, I'm gonna hand you to Hodges and Henry while I make sure the place is clear." He passed the blonde to the lab techs, each putting one of Greg's arms around their shoulders. Once Nick cleared the area, they stepped inside. Nick squatted down next to the body and frowned, trying to understand the strangeness of the situation.

".357 in his hand," he observed. "No blood pool around the body or any apparent entry wounds."

"No signs of decomp," Hodges observed from his stance behind the Texan.

"This is a recent event," Greg breathed heavily.

Nick rolled the body to look for any posterior entry wounds, but there were none.

"Well, I guess we should call it in," Henry said sarcastically, shifting on his feet. "Oh that's right, we've got reception."

Nick rolled his eyes. "Well, it looks like something propelled them both through that window at a high velocity." He sighed, trying to figure out what to. He glanced at Greg who was barely holding it together and then around at the vacant room. "Alright, I'm gonna take a look around and see if I can find a phone." Before he could turn around, though, he heard a cock of a shotgun.

"Hands up!" A gruff voice said.

Without really thinking, they all didn't except for Greg. And when the two lab techs raised their hands in surrender, Greg collapsed to the floor, unable to hold himself up.

"Greg!" Nick shouted. He wanted to go over to the kid, but was stopped by the guy behind him. The Texan slowly turned around, seeing a hillbilly type man pointing a gun at them.

"Put that gun down on the floor," Nick said cautiously.

"And end up like Gomez? I don't think so. You think I'm crazy? I go away and come back, he's dead and ya'll are here!"

"Calm down."

"You calm down!"

"Hey! We're law enforcement, now put the gun down!"

"No!"

Nick looked behind him at Greg who was still on the floor. He wasn't sure if the kid wasn't moving because he had fallen unconscious or because of this crazy guy with a gun. Either way, he really needed to check on him.

"You shoot me, you'll be going to jail for the rest of your miserable life. I'm an officer of the law and no one takes it easy on cop killers."

"You're really a cop?"

"That's right. Now, I'm gonna reach in my pocket and I'm gonna show you my badge." He pulled out his card and the man looked at it intently. "See that? That's legit. Nobody has to get hurt."

"Yeah, tell that to Gomez."

"Just give me the shotgun."

"You're all cops?"

They all nodded.

"Now just give me the gun and we can figure this all out."

It took a moment, but the man finally gave in, handing Nick the gun. Soon after, he went to Greg's side, placing a hand on the kid's shoulder. "Greg? G, can you hear me?"

The blonde blinked up at him and nodded.

"Alright, let's get you up and to a booth where it's more comfortable."

Greg didn't argue; he was feeling extremely nauseous and dizzy and when he sat down, he closed his eyes, trying to take in normal breaths. Once he was sure the blonde was somewhat comfortable, Nick turned to the man and sighed. "What's your name?"

"Slick."

No one commented.

"Alright, Slick, Gomez was dead when we got here. There's a raccoon on his face and his upper body looked singed. So whatever happened, happened not that long ago and most likely was an accident."

Slick looked at the body. "That's Raccoonzilla. In life, he and Gomez was locked into a hatred that surpasseth understanding."

"Uh…Raccoonzilla?" Henry questioned.

"Well, that's the meanest, vilest rodent that ever strode the planet."

"Technically, not a rodent," Hodges murmured.

Everyone, even Greg, glared at the tech. Nick shook his head. Whatever happened, he honestly didn't care at the moment. Greg was in trouble and he needed to find a phone. Either one of them could have internal bleeding without knowing it yet.

"How the hell did you boys get here so fast?"

"We're off duty," Nick replied.

"We came for the ribs…and the hepatitis," Henry added. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm the handyman…well, I was the handyman, I'm the night watchman now."

"Do you have a car?"

"Uh-uh, no. A buddy dropped me off."

Nick pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well, is there a working phone in here anywhere?"

"No, but there's a ham radio buried in the back. I can show you."

The Texan bobbed his head and then bent down next to Greg, cupping the man's neck. "Hey buddy. You gonna be alright? I gotta go see if I can call for backup, but Henry and David will keep you company."

Greg gave Nick a weak smile. "Yeah…I'll b-be fine."

Nick pursed his lips sadly, squeezing the younger man's shoulder. "Just hang on a little longer man, we'll be out of here in no time."

"'K."

Nick gave him a reassuring smile before following Slick into the back room. Greg watched as the older man disappeared and when he did, the blonde let his eyes close and a few tears drip down his cheeks. He was in so much goddamn pain.

"Greg? You okay?" Henry asked, shaking his shoulder. "I would offer to get you some water, but who knows how safe that is."

Greg chuckled feebly. "Yeah, you got that right." He coughed violently, noticing blood splattering onto his lips.

"Crap," Henry whispered. He got up and looked around, grabbing a napkin from the counter and bringing it to Greg.

"T-Thanks," Greg wheezed, wiping his mouth. "I'm gonna close my eyes for a bit. Wake me up if something happens."

"Sure thing."

Greg closed his eyes for what seemed like a few minutes and when he opened them again it was a bit lighter outside. Squinting, he looked around the room; Henry was talking to some redheaded woman- when the hell did she get here? - Hodges was gone and so was Nick. Probably still trying to call for help. He, then, realized Nick's jacket was draped over his shoulders. He smiled a little before sitting up stiffly; he was feeling a little better, but he had no idea if that was a good or bad thing. He glanced down at his wound and he was grateful that the bleeding seemed to have slowed down. He groaned hoarsely, still tasting blood in his mouth. He didn't know how much longer he had, but it wasn't gonna go any faster with him just sitting here. If they couldn't find a phone, he was gonna make one. Removing the jacket, he pushed himself up to shaky legs and grabbed Henry's discarded flashlight before walking into the kitchen. He noticed a phone on the wall and he picked it up, hoping he would hear the dial tone. Unfortunately, it was dead.

"Great." He wiped the sweat from his forehead feeling extremely nauseous. Greg clutched his stomach and doubled over, retching violently which made the pain flare up even more. Once he was finished, he noticed it was not only vomit, but blood too. Even better. Wiping his mouth, he disconnected the phone and saw a toolbox on a rack in the corner. When he opened it, a small grin formed on his lips. Wires.

~+CSI+~

Nick wiped his brow as he left the backroom. Fixing that ham radio was a bust and it was already morning. He had checked on Greg half an hour ago; he definitely hadn't been looking better. His skin was cold, yet sweaty, the bleeding slowed down- though that probably wasn't a good thing- and his breathing was weak. He covered the man with his jacket before going back to the radio, but he knew that wouldn't help much. When he got out front, he noticed Greg was not there.

"Henry, where's Greg?"

The tech turned around, along with the woman known as Shirley who had shown up not long after Greg passed out. "He was right there five minutes ago."

"And now he's not; where could he have gone?" He peered out the window and suddenly saw the familiar blonde hair standing by the telephone pole. Frowning, he rushed out the door; the kid must've gotten some strange burst of adrenaline if he was able to walk on his own.

"Greg, man, what are you doing up?" He breathed, trotting over.

The CSI pointed to a phone and some wires in his trembling hands. "I f-found this in the…the kitchen," he coughed. "All we gotta do is go up the p-pole and clip these taps into the main line."

Nick raised his brows, impressed with the guy; even feeling like death and being _close_ to death, Greg was still very smart. "Okay, give them to me, I'll do it."

"No, I can do it. Besides, I feel a lot better now. I think I just needed some rest." Once he got this done and knew help was coming, then he could tell the truth that he felt like absolute shit.

"Greg, you don't _look_ better. Come on, just let me do it."

"Nick," he chuckled. "I'm fine. And no offense, but would you know what to do when you got up there?"

Nick sighed through his nose. "Point taken. Fine, just be careful, okay?" He didn't like this one bit, but there was nothing he could do about it, plus neither Hodges or Henry would volunteer. He let Greg put a foot in his hands. "Alright, on three: one, two, three." He lifted Greg up so he could reach the first climbing spike and watched nervously as the man continued upwards. _Please don't fall, please don't fall._

Once Greg finally reached the box, he was winded and feeling a little dizzy. Maybe he should've listened to Nick. Well, there was no point in backing down now; clutching the pole with one arm, he used his other to attach the clip to the main line. The first attempt didn't work, some woman jabbering about something he didn't understand. When he tried again, he heard the dial tone. The sweetest sound he had ever heard. He grinned and dialed Catherine's number.

_"Willows."_

"Catherine, hey it's Greg. You're not gonna believe what happened." He quickly recounted the story and said they would need backup and a couple ambulances, but leaving out that he was seriously injured. Once he hung up, he sighed in relief. They were saved.

"They on their way?" Nick shouted from below.

"Yeah!" He looked down and realized that was a huge mistake. His vision doubled and everything began spinning. "Oh god." He clutched the pole tightly as his legs got weak. If he fell, he was really screwed.

"Greg, you can get down now!"

He blinked a few times, hoping it would help, but that just made it worse. He really fucked up. "I-I can't. Nick, m'sorry. Feel like m'gonna p-pass out."

"Dammit. Alright, just take a few deep breaths. Don't think about where you are, just close your eyes and breathe for a moment."

Greg tried to do what he was told, but his heart was beating too fast and his eyes were threatening to roll to the back of his head. The only thing keeping him conscious was the fact that he was eight feet off the ground. "I messed up Nick."

"No you didn't, you did good. Just breathe; I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere." Nick was staying calm on the outside, but internally, he was freaking out. If Greg fell, he could attempt to catch him, but it wouldn't help their situation. He continued to soothe the younger man until Greg was able to slowly make his way down. When he reached the last climbing spike, Nick help him jump to the ground.

"Greggo, you okay, buddy?" Nick questioned, holding the man's shoulders so he wouldn't fall. Greg's eyes were unfocused and glassy and his face was tinted gray. "Greg?"

"Ni-Nick…I…I lied. I don't feel good," the blonde mumbled.

Before Nick had a chance to respond, Greg threw up and then slumped in the Texan's arms, out cold. "Greg? Greg!" Nick felt the kid's pulse and it was going way too fast. "Fuck." He really hoped help was close. Greg didn't have much longer.

With Hodges' help, they brought Greg inside and gently laid him down on a bench, using Nick's jacket as a pillow. "Henry, get me a cloth and soak it in water so we can put it on Greg's forehead. It still looks like he has high fever," Nick ordered while he lifted Greg's shirt to check how worse the gash had become. And saying it had gotten worse was an understatement. The wound appeared to be bigger than before; it was inflamed, no doubt infected with pus and blood seeping out of it. "Jesus Greggo."

"Is he gonna be okay?" Henry asked, handing the Texan a wet hand towel Shirley had given him. Nick placed it across Greg's forehead before running his fingers through the blonde's hair. "I don't know." He glanced at his watch. That ambulance needed to hurry.

He told Shirley and Slick that everything had been called in and that highway patrol was on the way. They were also going to have to go to station to answer a few questions. It should hopefully all be cleared up soon.

"It's a good thing, too," Hodges muttered to Henry. "This guy is getting pretty ripe. I'm sure he wasn't too good in real life either, but now…"

Henry sniffed his hands in disgust. "I need to wash up."

"See if you can find an air-freshener," the tech added.

Nick pressed his lips together and looked down at his friend. This trip had really gone to the dogs. "This puts a whole 'nother definition to 'highway to hell' huh, bud." Of course the blonde didn't reply and that troubled him. Greg's skin was clammy and there were deep, dark circles underneath his eyes. And even though his breathing was barely existent, it was quick and raspy. "You're gonna be okay, man, just hang on. We're gonna be out of here soon, I promise."

All of a sudden, there was glass breaking and Henry cried out in pain.

"Aah! Oh my God!"

Nick rolled his eyes, but got up to see what the man was whining about. "What happened?"

"It's sulfuric acid! Aah!"

"Alright," Nick said, turning on the faucet. "Put your hand under cold water." He then went over to the fireplace, grabbed a handful of charcoal and then went back to Henry, pouring it over the burn. "Here, here. The charcoal will neutralize the acid."

Henry sighed in relief, but it still burned. "More. More charcoal!"

"Just keep it underwater," Hodges said, watching the scene unfold."

Nick limped back to the fireplace and sifted through the ashes…until he found a skull. His heart leapt. If these two goons were murderers, one: why weren't they dead yet and two: Greg was extremely vulnerable and anything could happen. He had to play this right.

"What do we have here?" He said, standing up and putting a hand over his gun for safety measures. "Y'all want to tell me who this is?"

"Who?" Shirley said, looking genuinely baffled.

"Well, I don't know. You tell me, Shirley."

"I got no idea. Slick?"

"I don't know."

Nick frowned. Either these two were extremely good at acting dumb or they really didn't know, but he had a feeling there was a story behind Harry's disappearance. The _real_ story. Sirens were suddenly heard in the distance, approaching fast and Nick relaxed a little. He pulled out his gun and put it on the two while going to sit next to Greg. "You know what, that's okay. Just sit tight. We're gonna figure this out." He cocked the gun and glanced down at the younger CSI. He was getting worse with each passing second. They were getting out of this hellhole. He just prayed it wasn't too late for Greg. His own wound was flaring up and there was no doubt an infection, but until Greg was safe in the hospital or at least in the ambulance, he didn't care about himself right now.

~+C+~

When the ambulance finally came, two in fact, one stayed behind to take care of Henry and Hodges while Greg and Nick went in the other. Nick watched as the medics cut off Greg's shirt and cleaned the wound. It was really infected, he just hoped the kid didn't get some kind of disease from it. What really unnerved him, though, was the fact that Greg hadn't regained consciousness in a while.

"How long has he been like this?" One of the medics, Kathy, questioned, inserting an I.V. into the crook of Greg's arm as well as putting an oxygen mask over his mouth.

"Well we crashed the car about nine hours ago. I tried to staunch the bleeding and it stopped eventually. He passed out an hour ago, is it normal for him to still be unconscious?"

"He lost a lot of blood, so yes, it makes sense." She lifted Greg's eyelids, shining a penlight in his eyes. "Pupils are dilated, signs of a concussion. Severe blood loss, dehydration and a 103° fever. Wound is also severely infected."

"He's gonna be okay, right?" Nick asked, hissing when the other medic, Rick, began pouring antiseptic on his gash.

"His condition is critical at the moment, but once we get him antibiotics and make sure there are no other areas of concern, he should hopefully recover with no issues."

Nick sighed and leaned forward, grabbing Greg's cold hand, stroking his bruised knuckles lightly. "You're gonna be okay, Greggo." _Please be okay._

Nick didn't even remember passing out when he woke up an hour later. Hodges and Langston were sitting by his side and he realized he was in a hospital bed.

"What happened?" He groaned, his head pounding. In fact, his whole body was aching.

"You had a concussion, some blood loss and you were dehydrated," Ray replied. "The medic said you passed out once Greg was taken away."

_Greg? Greg!_ "Where is he? Is he okay?" He remembered now; just as they had reached the hospital, Greg's blood pressure dropped and he stopped breathing. It was the worst thing he had witnessed and he wanted to follow Greg's gurney as long as he could, but was stopped in the waiting room. After that, it was all a blur.

"He's fine," Ray said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "He's upstairs in ICU. Catherine and Henry are with him."

"ICU? That doesn't sound okay," Nick grunted, sitting up.

"He was low on blood and his temperature is still pretty high from the infection so they want to make sure it doesn't get any worse."

"But…"

"He's still unconscious," Hodges said. "They don't know when he'll wake up. He was really dehydrated, too. We all were, but not as much as him."

Nick sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Dammit."

"Good part is, though, he's breathing and on his own," Ray added.

"I want to see him."

"Nick, you should probably stay lying down. You lost a good amount of blood, as well."

"I don't care. I just need to see if he's okay. With my own eyes."

Ray pressed his lips together but sighed. "Alright, but the doctor wants you off your feet so you're going up in a wheelchair."

Nick complied, knowing arguing would get him nowhere. When they got to the intensive care floor, Greg's room with right across from the nurse's station.

"Hey, Nicky," Catherine smiled as he was pushed into the room. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," he said quickly, more focused on the form in the bed.

Catherine smirked. "We'll leave you two alone."

Nick waited until the four left before wheeling to Greg's bedside. The kid still looked unnaturally pale and slightly bruised, for his liking and there was a nasal cannula snaked behind his ears, but his breathing was still pretty scratchy. Nick smiled sadly, brushing some blonde strands off of the man's forehead. Greg was wearing a gown, as well, but he was sure the kid's body, besides the huge gash, was littered in bruises, too. They were all gonna be hurting for the next couple of weeks.

"I'm sorry this happened, G," he said quietly, grabbing the blonde's hand and squeezed it. The last time Greg was stuck here was, because of the beatings three years ago. This wasn't as traumatizing at that incident, but he knew the kid didn't like hospitals. He vowed to keep Greg out of harm's way, but clearly getting hurt could happen outside the job, too. Sighing, he sat back in the wheelchair and stared up at the monitor, watching Greg's heart beat slowly and his temperature fluctuate. It was gonna be another long day.

**3 ½ hours later**

Nick jerked awake when he heard a small groan. He hissed in discomfort, cracking his neck and then sat up when he saw Greg's eyes groggily flicker open. His forehead creased as he tiredly skimmed the area before landing on Nick.

"Ni-Nick?" He rasped.

"Hey buddy," the Texan grinned, leaning forward to rest his hand on Greg's arm.

"Where…where are we? Harry's?"

"Hell no. We're far away from that place. We're at the hospital; you've been out for a good six hours or so. You passed out after you climbed up the telephone pole to call Catherine. Remember?"

"Not…Not really. I remember," he paused to chuckle a little. "'Member Raccoonzilla."

Nick laughed. "Yeah, that was pretty unforgettable. That's it?"

Greg pushed himself a little, grimacing when his stitches pulled. "Uh…Slick pulling a gun on us. After I fell asleep in the booth, it's all blank."

"Well, long story short, you climbed to the top of a telephone pole and connected some wires to the main line and managed to get ahold of Catherine. You passed out shortly after that. You were in pretty bad shape, Greggo."

The blonde wiped his face and yawned. "M'gonna be okay, though, right?"

"We'll all be sore for a few weeks. You may feel sick from time to time and your side is gonna be really sensitive for a while. It'll be desk duty for a while when you do come back, but the doctor said at least a week of rest."

Greg nodded silently and glanced out the window. "Where are the others?"

"Probably getting something to eat."

"Are they okay? Are you okay?"

Nick smirked. "We're all fine. Nothing a few stiches and bandages couldn't fix up. Like I said, we'll be sore, but we'll recover."

Greg smiled tiredly before letting his eyes slip close. Nick didn't blame the kid for being so exhausted. He fixed the sheets so that they were up to Greg's shoulders before wheeling out of the room to go find the rest of the team.

The next time Greg woke up, he was more alert and it was almost dinner time. The nurse insisted he have something small to eat like crackers and jello even when he said he wasn't hungry. Henry and Hodges joined as well. Henry had a sprained ankle and a bandage wrapped around his hand where he had burned himself with acid and Hodges just had a few cuts and a couple cracked ribs; but most importantly, they were all gonna be okay.

"So did you figure out how that guy was killed?" Greg coughed, now sitting up with the help of more pillows.

"It was an accident," Hodges said. "There was a pipe out back and we think he used it to lure the raccoons. He filled it with ethylene gas and then tried to ignite it. Unfortunately, he didn't realize that the gas was pooling at the bottom, so when he resorted to shooting the animal instead, it literally blew up in his face."

"And get this," Nick added. "I went to get charcoal for when Henry spilled acid on his hand-"

"Ugh, don't remind me," the younger man groaned.

"There was a skull in the fire pit. Shirley, Harry's girlfriend or whoever, said that he had run off with someone younger, cleaning out her accounts. But really, he was there all along. Gomez had killed him and I found his remains among the ashes. But here's where is gets weirder. When we got all his bones in order and confirmed it was Harry, I noticed that his ribs were missing, cut along the sternum and the spine. Remember when we saw the restaurant was closed due to a hepatitis outbreak…a month after Harry disappeared? Harry had hepatitis B."

Greg's eyebrows rose in awe. "Which has an incubation period of roughly four weeks."

"What does that mean?" Henry questioned.

Nick and Greg looked at the man with a grin before he finally caught on.

"Oh, gross! They fed him to the customers?! You guys were gonna make me eat a person?!"

The two CSI's rolled their eyes. "Relax, Hop-Along," Nick continued. "He was probably all gone the first night anyways."

"It's still disgusting…but you know, this birthday didn't suck after all. Solved two mysteries, had some interesting conversations with Shirley and learned a lot. It was fun."

Greg beamed and looked at Nick. "Yeah, but the next time we do something for someone's birthday, maybe it'd be best to stay in town."

Nick laughed as did the others. "No argument there, buddy. No argument there."

**FIN**

**Next prompt for: ****_Meanxruki _**

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**_Nico225_**

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_**Katie Shimkus**_

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_**Zarah**_

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_**Thewhatzupwriter26**_

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**Stay tuned!**


	36. Breathe

**Breathe**

**Next Prompt for: Meanxruki: ****Asthma story please! Set a couple days after 10x05 'Death and a Maiden.' Enjoy!**

**4:53am**

Greg took a deep breath as he stepped into the crime lab. It had been a couple days after that confusing case where a kid got beat up and raped by his girlfriend's controlling brother. He had been glad he wasn't the one to process the scene or come face to face with the victim. Just thinking about and glancing at the pictures, made him sick. It had been three years since his own beating and he hated that he was still bothered by it. He didn't know why; why couldn't he stop being scared? Would he be freaked out every time he saw a beat up victim? Greg turned into the locker room and sat down on the bench. What if he never got over it?

"Hey Greg."

He flinched slightly and glanced up to see Nick standing in the doorway. "Oh…hey."

Nick frowned, clearly sensing something was wrong, and moved in closer. "You okay, bud?"

Greg forced a smile. "Y-Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"Cause I'm your best friend and I can tell when you're not."

"Well, I am. I think I'm just tired."

"You sure?" Greg looked far from okay. His face was sheet white and his eyes appeared watery…like he was close to crying. Deep down, he had a feeling as to why Greg was being the way he was, but he didn't want to pry. Greg looked like he needed space and to not bring up the horrors of his past.

"Yeah I'm sure. So, what's up?"

"We got a grisly 415 down in Clark County. You up for it?"

Greg stood up, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants. "Yeah, count me in."

Nick smirked. Nothing could get this kid down…right? "Okay, grab your kit and meet me out front."

"Sounds good."

Nick smirked and left and the second he did, Greg's smile fell; 415 was assault and that meant someone was hurt. He just wondered how bad…and he wondered if he'd be able to handle it or at least keep it together. He had to; he couldn't let Nick think he was being weak. Taking a deep breath, Greg grabbed his things and walked out the door. When they got to the scene, it was in an alley and since it was still early in the morning and slightly dark, every alley looked like the one he was beat up in. But that didn't really bother him. What _did_ bother him was the blood splattered onto the pavement and the wall.

"Jesus," Nick said, surveying the scene. "This sure looked personal."

"You're telling me," Brass said, coming up to them after finishing with the witnesses. "The vic, Peter Murphy, 26. Apparently, this is a shortcut home from work. I'm surprised he made it out of here alive. Apparently he was left for dead until that hooker over there found him lying in the trash bags."

"How's he doing?" Greg questioned, clearing his throat.

"Barely holding on. I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't make it through the night."

Nick sighed heavily. "Alright, well let's get to work. Greg you can start processing over by the trash where Peter was found."

Greg bobbed his head. _Thank god._ Anything to get away from all that blood. Just the scent of it made him nauseous. _God, what's wrong with me?_ When they finished, the two CSI's got into the car and drove to the hospital so they could get the evidence from Peter.

Nick was worried. Not only did Greg look like he was gonna be sick at the scene, but he was also unusually quiet. He could tell Greg was happy to not have to be near the majority of the blood, but it seemed like the whole thing still upset him. He was proud, however, of how well Greg could hold it together, but he also didn't like that the kid was bottling it up. He was also concerned that Greg never talked about his incident. Not even with him. Have they grown so far apart that Greg didn't feel the need to tell him things? Nick knew he had been kind of harsh to the blonde lately, especially the day after Riley quit…and when Greg congratulated him on becoming supervisor and all he said was 'thanks Greg.' They didn't even go out to celebrate. He remembered Greg asking if he wanted to do something and he had declined for a reason that seemed so stupid now. Wow, now that he thought about it, he's been a complete ass. Nick glanced over at Greg who was staring out the window. He needed to make it up to him somehow.

"Hey Greg?"

The man turned around. "Hmm?"

"You know," he said, pulling into the hospital entrance. "You can talk to me about anything, right?"

Greg's forehead creased at the random question. He really hoped Nick couldn't see what was really going on with him. They parked and Nick shut off the car; perfect time to escape. "Let's just get this over with, okay? We should really go collect the evidence." He hopped out of the car, grabbed his kit and headed for the entrance, leaving Nick shocked. He probably just made the Texan more suspicious, but he didn't care. He wasn't looking forward to seeing the condition of the victim, but it was his job. _Pull it together, Sanders. It'll be over soon._ Nick caught up with him at the elevator and thankfully, he didn't bring up what just happened, but now the ride up was just plain awkward.

"Peter Murphy," Nick asked when they got to the reception desk. "My name is Nick and this is Greg, we're with CSI to collect evidence. Is he out of surgery?"

"Oh, yes, we were told you guys were coming. Here's his clothes and everything he had on when he was brought in," she handed them a few bags. "And the nurse has waited on cleaning him up until you finished. He's in room 306."

"Perfect, thank you," Nick flashed a smile and they walked down the hall to the room. The second the two walked inside, Greg froze at the door, his heart thumping painfully against his chest. Peter looked horrible; his face was swollen and littered with dark purple, black, and red bruises. His lip was busted, his head was wrapped in a thick bandage and his left eye appeared swollen. It reminded him a lot of what he looked like three years ago…actually, it basically _was_ him. And now he was trapped; his mind flashed back to that horrible night. Every punch, every kick, every scratch. It felt like it happened just yesterday. It felt like all his wounds were rising and if he moved, all he would experience was pain no matter how much drugs the nurses gave him. Sounds were muffled, his vision tunneled and his hands shook violently. Greg felt really sick all of a sudden and the blood in his body ran cold. He couldn't do this. He didn't care if it looked pathetic, but he couldn't do this anymore.

Nick walked up to Peter Murphy, getting ready to take some pictures when he realized Greg was not on the other side of the bed, but still by the door. And he looked like he had seen a ghost. Greg was staring at the victim, his hands trembling and his breathing was coming out fast and shaky. Frowning, Nick walked over.

"Greg?"

No response. He was sure Greg didn't even know he was standing right in front of his face. "Greggo? Greg, man can you hear me?" He touched the blonde's arm and Greg jerked away like he had just been burned. The younger CSI blinked rapidly, remembering where he was and then stared at Nick with haunted, watery eyes.

"W-What?"

"I was saying your name. Are you okay?"

Instead of replying, Greg bolted out of the room and down the hall to the nearest bathroom. Confused, Nick set his things down on the nightstand before following the younger CSI. When he entered the bathroom, he found Greg on his knees in front of the toilet, heaving violently. Pressing his lips together in sympathy, he grabbed a paper towel and then squeezed into the stall, squatting next to Greg, waiting for him to finish. It lasted a good two minutes before Greg's body was left quivering and he was drained of all his energy. Nick placed a hand on the kid's back, rubbing it comfortingly. Greg closed his eyes, resting his forehead on his arm until he felt better enough to talk.

"S-Sorry," he muttered.

"It's okay, bud. Just…tell me what's going on. You've been acting weird all day."

Greg opened his eyes and Nick handed him the towel to wipe his face. The blonde took it gratefully and spoke, though avoiding eye contact. "E-Ever since…ever since we had that assault case a few days ago…the one where the kid had gotten raped by his girlfriend's brother…I just couldn't shake the image. Even though I wasn't the one to process him, I saw the pictures and all I could…could think about w-was…" tears formed in his eyes and he started to panic again. "I can't stop going back to that night and t-then seeing this guy." He looked up at Nick. "I can't do this, Nick. I'm sorry, I can't do it."

"Hey, hey, hey. Don't worry about it. I completely understand and it's not your fault."

Greg sniffed, but didn't reply.

"I know what you're going through, Greg. I was the same way after I was buried alive. I couldn't go in tight places for almost a couple years."

"But it's been three, Nick. Why can't I get over it? I should be over it, but…I'm sorry, I'm being pathetic."

Nick put his hands on Greg's shoulders. "You're not being pathetic. Sometimes it takes a little longer, okay? And sometimes, I'm not over it either; there are times where I become claustrophobic in small areas. What you went through was horrible. We both went through near death situations, but we're both okay. The people who hurt us are gone forever. I know after you came back you were putting on a happy face, but you were struggling. I regret not doing anything about it, but…have you talked to anyone about what happened?"

Greg shook his head. "No."

"Well, you should. Even if you just talk to me, it'll take a huge weight off your shoulders. I was skeptical about talking to a shrink, but when I did…I felt so much better."

Greg pursed his lips and took a deep breath, smiling weakly. "Thanks Nick. Sorry for freaking out in front of you like that."

"Don't apologize, man. It's okay." He stood up and he helped Greg get to his feet. "Why don't you go wait in the car and I'll finish up with Peter."

"Okay." Greg felt embarrassed that he couldn't do a simple task.

"Hey, stop worrying about it, Greggo," Nick said, squeezing his arm. "You can take his clothes and go sit in the car, I'll be done in ten minutes."

The blonde nodded and they both left the bathroom, going separate ways. As Nick walked back to Peter's room, he clenched his jaw angrily. He was pissed. Not pissed at Greg, but pissed at the assholes who hurt the kid. He hated that something that happened three years ago still had this much of an effect on his friend. The poor guy didn't deserve it and he wished he had beaten the shit out of Pig the day they had arrested him. Jim had told him he'd regret it, but he knew he wouldn't have. Once he finished getting all the evidence, Nick thanked the nurses and went back outside to the car. When he got to the Denali, Greg was sitting in the passenger seat, the door open and his eyes closed. Nick touched his shoulder and Greg jumped, visibly startled.

"Easy, buddy, it's just me."

Greg sighed, wiping a hand across his face. Nick gave him a wary look before going to put his things in the trunk, while also grabbing a water bottle. He handed it to Greg, the blonde quietly thanking him and taking a few sips.

"I would suggest you take a few days off, but knowing you, you'd actually hate it."

Greg smirked weakly.

"Maybe you should hop in on Catherine's case. I heard it was just a homicide."

Greg chuckled humorlessly. "You'd think a dead body would bother me more than an assault victim."

Nick just smiled sadly. "And after we're both done, we should go out later tonight to forget about everything. We haven't hung out in ages and I miss it."

Greg hesitated, but after a few moments, he agreed. "Okay. Yeah, that sounds like fun."

"Good," Nick grinned, patting the blonde's shoulder. "Alright, let's go."

As they drove back to the lab, Greg was still pretty quiet, but Nick was just glad Greg had talked to him about what was going on.

"Hey Nick?" Greg said suddenly. "What am I gonna tell Catherine? She's gonna wonder why I'm switching."

"Tell her I was being an asshole to you," Nick smirked and Greg rolled his eyes. "Do you want me to tell her? And then I'll ask her not to bring it up."

"You don't think she's gonna act differently towards me?"

"I got you covered, G. Don't worry."

Greg smiled and the rest of the drive was silent once more.

~+CSI+~ 

**7:23am**

Nick _did_ have him covered. Catherine let him on her case with no questions asked and Greg was feeling a little bit better. The scene they went too was pretty grimy and dusty, but anything beat dealing with an assault victim.

"Alright," Catherine began. "Ray, you go upstairs and see if there's anything. Greg, you start processing downstairs. There's a trail of blood leading into the basement."

"Okay." He started taking pictures of the blood trail until he made it all the way down to the cold, musty basement. There were some more blood drops on the floor, but nothing else. _Maybe the killer was injured?_ He swabbed the fluids with ease and then went back to exploring. The window was smashed open, indicating the suspect must've escaped through there and Greg knew there had to be some prints or more blood on the broken glass and window frame. However, whoever killed their victim must've been tall, because a guy _his _height wouldn't be able to reach even with a boost from the chair. Greg bit the inside of his cheek, looking around to see what else he could use to get himself up higher. He put down his camera when he saw a shelf of boxes in the corner. Greg began to pull the boxes off the shelf, but one seemed to get caught and suddenly the whole thing came toppling down onto him. Dust surrounded him like a thick fog and Greg quickly found that he couldn't breathe…and then he remembered he didn't have his inhaler. No one knew about his asthma besides Catherine since she caught him using his medication once. But Catherine was upstairs, would she hear him? Would she have a spare inhaler? Oh god, he was going to die.

"Greg. Greg! It's Catherine, look at me! Just breathe, Hun, I got an inhaler." Catherine had been taking pictures upstairs when she heard a commotion come from the basement. She let her hand hover over the gun while walking over to the door. She had called out for Greg, but the only answer she got was frantic gasping. Heart fluttering, she ran down half the stairs to see him on his hands and knees, choking and coughing, his face purple and his lips blue. _Asthma attack._ "Shit." She ran back upstairs, grabbed the extra inhaler she kept for emergencies such as this and rushed back downstairs. The blonde tried to get Greg's attention, but was getting nothing and had to force the inhaler into the younger man's mouth and pushing down on the canister a few times.

"Breathe, honey, just breathe, I got you."

Greg's body trembled violently, but his breathing got a little better. Tears trickled down his pale face while he leaned into Catherine. She rubbed his back soothingly, giving him one last puff of air to be safe. "You're okay now, Greg. Just deep breaths. There we go, in and out. That's it." After five more minutes, Greg sagged, completely exhausted.

"You okay?"

"Y-Yeah," Greg replied breathlessly.

"What happened?"

"B-Boxes…fell…dust." He looked up at the woman. "T-Thanks…saved my…life."

Catherine smiled. "You're welcome."

He felt like shit. This whole day had been a complete disaster. He was ready for a nap; Greg hated that the attacks always made him so tired.

"Why don't you go home; I can drive you."

"Catherine-"

"I know Nick told me not to say anything, but after what happened today at the hospital and this past week, I'm giving you permission. I know you don't feel well, either, you can't hide these things from me, Greg."

The blonde grumbled, but was secretly grateful. "Okay…but can you not tell Nick about this? If he asks, just tell him I got sick or something."

Catherine pursed her lips but nodded. "Alright, can you stand?"

"Yeah."

Catherine helped Greg to his feet and fifteen minutes later, Catherine was dropping him off at his apartment. The second the blonde hit the pillows, he was out like a light. When he woke up, it was because someone was knocking loudly on his door. He stiffly pushed himself up from the bed and stumbled towards the front of his apartment. He glanced at his watch and realized he had slept for a good nine hours. _Damn._ Greg opened the door and squinted his eyes as the hallway's bright light spilled into his apartment.

"Nick? What are you doing here?"

"Coming to see if you're okay. I return to the lab only to see you're not there and Catherine telling me you got sick."

Greg sighed. "Yeah, sorry. I guess that panic attack made me more tired than I thought."

Nick looked at Greg suspiciously. Once again, the kid was hiding something from him. "Oh, well do you want to do a rain check on tonight then?"

Greg stared at the Texan for a minute. "No, I want to get out. You're right, I need to forget about all this. Just hang on and I'll get changed."

Nick bobbed his head and leaned against the doorframe as Greg disappeared into his room. His plan was to get the man drunk enough so that he would spill the truth about what's been going on lately. He got some answers, but the CSI was still holding back. It didn't take long for Greg to change and soon they were on their way to the bar. It was a new place that that neither one of them had been to, but it was local and cheap. They ordered beer first, but then Nick bought them a few rounds of shots. It was all going well until a biker gang came in all rowdy and smoking cigars. Nick was annoyed, but didn't let it get to him…however, for Greg, the tobacco smoke was disturbing and after already having an asthma attack earlier that night, his lungs were already pretty weak. He took another sip of vodka to hopefully clear his throat, but for some reason it made it worse. He choked and Nick slapped him on the back with a chuckle.

"You're supposed to swallow your drink, not inhale it, Greggo."

Greg chuckled nervously, assuming that's all it was and drank the rest of the liquid. Then there was tickle in the back of his throat and his chest grew tight. This was weird. He inhaled to take a breath, but all his got was a lung full of cigar smoke. He started coughing violently and his face grew hot. _Oh god, not again_.

"Greg, you okay man?"

"Y-Yeah," he choked. "I ju-just gotta get some air. I'll b-be right back."

"You want me to come with you?"

"N-No, I'm good. I'll be right back, I promise."

Nick was skeptical as he watched Greg slide off the stool and headed towards the exit. He was a little concerned especially when the kid was getting red in the face. But for the moment, he would respect the blonde's wishes.

Greg stumbled out into the cool night wheezing. He would hope, that once he got away from the stuffy, smoke filled bar and out into fresh air, he would feel better. However, he didn't; every puff of air if let out, it was so much harder to get back in. It felt like he was breathing through a mud clogged straw. He was already woozy and nauseous from the drinks and it did nothing to help his oncoming asthma attack. His vision began to tunnel and his chest got tighter; he was dying and there was no one outside to help. Greg tripped into the alley next to the bar and collapsed against the brick wall before falling to his knees, unable to take a proper breath. He should've let Nick come outside with him. But he wouldn't know what to do…he didn't tell the Texan about his earlier asthma attack or the fact that he had this problem in the first place. God, he was an idiot. Tears dripped down his face and knew that his last breath was coming soon.

Nick glanced down at his watch nervously. It had been awhile since Greg gone outside and the brotherly instinct in him said that something was seriously wrong. He tossed a few tens on the bar to pay for the drinks before pushing through the crowd to get outside. He was expecting to see Greg right out front, but the kid was nowhere to be seen.

"Greg?" His heart thumped worriedly against his chest. "Greg!" And that's when he heard it. The strangled wheezing in the alley and his worse thoughts came to mind. Someone could be attacking his best friend and he had still been drinking in the bar. He jogged around the corner, ready to confront the threat, however all he saw was Greg on his hands and knees, shaking and gasping for air. Upon getting closer and squinting in the dim light from the street lamp, he noticed Greg's tear-streaked face was pale and his lips were a disturbing color of blue.

"Shit. Oh, shit Greggo. What's wrong, man, talk to me!"

Greg looked up at him and all he saw in the dark brown eyes was fear and pain. He tried slapping the blonde's back, but it didn't nothing to help the situation. "Greg, oh god, what do I do? I don't know what to do; I don't know what's wrong!" He was fucking terrified. Greg was dying and he felt so clueless.

"Ni-Ni…" Greg said, barely over a whisper.

"What? What is it, bud. What are you trying to tell me?" He could see Greg was close to passing out. His eyes were threatening to roll to the back of his head and his body was sagging.

"A-Asth-m-ma."

Nick's eyes widened. "Shit. Alright, we need to get you to the hospital. Do you have an inhaler or something?"

"N-No."

"Great." He had to hurry. Greg didn't have much time. "Okay, I'm gonna wrap your arm around my neck and lift you up. Ready?" When he didn't get a response, he realized Greg's eyes were nearly closed. "No, no, no. Greg! Don't you give up on me." He hoisted the blonde to his feet, wrapping an arm around the skinny waist before running to the car. He quickly unlocked it, opened the door and gently put the barely breathing man inside. Once Greg was buckled in, Nick ran around to the driver's side, started the car and peeled out of the lot. He put his sirens on, forcing other drivers to the side of the road.

"Hang on, Greggo, hang on!" He shouted, swerving in and out of the late night traffic. Greg was gasping unevenly and his lips were turning blue. Nick reached over and slapped the man's face.

"Greg, don't quit on me, buddy. Just keep breathing, in and out. Don't stop. Please don't stop breathing. You can't die on me."

Nick finally screeched to a stop in the front of the building, relieved that there were no ambulances in the way. He turned to Greg and noticed the kid had tipped forward and the Texan was becoming more frantic as the blonde's breathing hitched. He pushed Greg back against the seat before jumping out.

"Hey, this isn't a parking spot," an attendant said, coming out of the building.

"I know, I know, I just need help, he's having an asthma attack."

The attendant looked as Nick opened the passenger side; upon seeing Greg's condition, his attitude changed. "Wait, don't move him. I'll go get a nurse."

Nick sighed through his nose and stayed by Greg's side. His breathing was barely existent and his face was transparent and clammy. "You're gonna be okay, man. Please be okay; you're not allowed to die on me, alright?" His gasps were coming out short and choppy and Nick was getting anxious. Where were the damn nurses? He swallowed and cupped Greg's face in his hands. "Greggo, please." But instead of breathing, the blonde took in one last weak gulp of air and then stopped breathing entirely.

"Oh god, no. Please no. Greg!" He shook the man's shoulders violently. "Greg, wake up! Please wake up!" He begged, tears forming in his eyes. He heard the hospital doors open, but he couldn't bring himself to leave his friend. He bowed his head, clutching Greg's hand. He had failed. _I'm sorry, Greg. I'm so sorry._

~+C+~

**6:45pm**

Nick was in shock. He couldn't believe he didn't know about Greg's asthma; how could he not know? He and Greg had worked together for years and now he was just finding out? He had called Catherine at some point, but he couldn't remember what time that had been or when she'd get here. He just knew that it had been nearly half an hour since Greg was pulled from the seat, moved onto the gurney and an oxygen mask put in place. They asked him questions that he answered quickly, remaining close so he could keep his eyes on Greg until he disappeared behind the doors. He knew he should probably be filling out the forms the nurse gave him and he thought he could, but the questions just got harder. He didn't know as much as he thought about Greg. Catherine was supposed to fax over the medical records before heading over. He got up and paced the room, constantly glancing up at the clock. He was scared; what if they couldn't get Greg back? What if he was in a coma? What if-?"

"Nick!"

He blinked and saw Catherine walking towards him, Sara and Ray right behind her. _Finally._ "Hey." He was exhausted.

"What the hell happened? Catherine huffed. Last she knew, Greg was at home sleeping off his asthma attack, how did Nick get to the kid and to the hospital so fast?

"Greg and I, we were at the bar. Ever since the Tommy Baker case, he's been acting different. I think it was bringing him back to his own beating and it's been hitting him hard. I wanted to take him out for drinks, you know, to cheer him up and to start hanging out, because we haven't really done so in a while. He was fine when we were drinking and then these bikers came in, bringing a cloud of cigar smoke in with him. Greg seemed more bothered by it than I did so he went to get air. I was worried after a few minutes and followed him; he was outside and he couldn't breathe. He was having an asthma attack. That's when I drove him here and then called you…he…he stopped breathing. There wasn't anything I could do, I just…I felt so helpless."

"You got him here, Nicky," Catherine sighed. "That's all that matters."

"Since when did Greg have asthma? Does he know about it?"

"Yes he does," Catherine replied. "And I do too. I should've made him go to the hospital after what happened at my scene today."

Nick gave the blonde a look with wide eyes. "What are you talking about? And how come you know but neither of us do?" _Especially me._

"I caught him using it once, but he begged me not to say anything. I didn't only because he said he'd put it in his file and carry around an inhaler. But he hasn't been good about that lately."

"What happened at your scene?" Sara asked.

"He was in the basement processing and apparently a bunch of boxes fell around him and kicked up dust. I found him choking on the floor and luckily I carry around an extra inhaler in case. That's why I sent him home. He's usually tired after an attack."

"God…" Nick said, running a hand through his hair. "Why the hell didn't he tell me?" There were hundreds of times that Greg was at a scene with him, hundreds of times were something could've triggered an asthma attack and he never would've known what to do. Just like today. All he did was get Greg here. Otherwise, he felt pretty useless.

"Mr. Stokes?"

They all turned around to see Greg's doctor walking towards him. He took a deep breath and prepared for the inevitable. "Yes?"

"I'm Dr. Nathan. You're the one who brought in Mr. Sanders, correct?"

Nick nodded. _Come on, doc, out with it already._ "Is he gonna be okay?"

"He will in twelve hours. We have him intubated for the time being until the medications we have him on start kicking in and getting the asthma under control. The attack had been very life-threatening, Mr. Stokes; if you had gotten him here any later, it might've been too late."

Nick choked. He didn't even want his mind to go into that scenario.

"Once his symptoms get better, we'll keep him under observation for another twelve hours to make sure he doesn't have any setbacks. After that, he'll be able to go home, preferably, into someone's care, at least for a few days or so. When he does leave, he's going to be in a daze, definitely sore, out of breath from time to time and extremely exhausted. Don't be surprised if he sleeps a lot more than normal for the next week and a half."

"Can we sit with him?" Sara asked.

"We've sedated him at the moment so he can sleep through the worst of it, plus not feel the tube down his throat. I suggest you guys go home for the rest of the night and come back in twelve hours, that way he'll be off the sedatives and possibly awake and coherent."

Nick didn't want to leave. He wanted to see Greg; he wanted to be sure that the kid was really gonna be okay. Just hearing about the blonde's condition wasn't doing much to calm him down.

"Nicky, come on, you can stay at my place for the night," Catherine said.

"No, I'm not leaving until I can see him."

"You're gonna stay here for twelve hours?" Sara scoffed.

"Yes," Nick snapped back.

"Tell you what," Dr. Nathan said. "I can let you see him through the window, but that's it, okay?"

Nick swallowed and nodded.

"Alright, follow me."

The group followed the doctor down the hallway and all of them were nervous as to what they would see. But none of them were as nervous as Nick. He couldn't believe the kid was on a ventilator…that he couldn't breathe on his own. _Jesus Greggo._ When they reached Greg's room, the doctor waved to the window and they all turned to peer inside.

"Oh man," Nick whispered. He was heartbroken. Greg looked so small in that bed surrounded by the huge machine and a bunch of tubes and wires. His hair was flat, his face was void of all color and his lips were still a slight tint of blue. He looked miserable. Nick bowed his head; this should never have happened. He never should've dragged Greg out. This was his fault and he didn't think he could ever forgive himself.

**12 ½ Hours Later: 7:30am**

"He's still asleep, but we've removed the tube and he's breathing on his own, albeit it's a little uneven and scratchy. He's going to be just fine. He has the nasal cannula, but if he gets out of breath, there's an oxygen mask by his bed."

Nick nodded before they all filed into the room. Greg was indeed still sleeping and the color was finally returning to his skin. He still looked worn-out, but Nick was just glad the kid was alive. That's all he wanted.

"Hey buddy," Nick whispered even though Greg wasn't awake, clutching the CSI's hand. It was cold. "I'm so glad you're okay. You scared me."

"He's gonna pay for not telling us," Sara muttered, brushing back some blonde strands.

"And I'm sorry for not telling you guys, either," Catherine said. "I should've known he'd be too stubborn to bring an inhaler around anywhere. That's why I do."

Nick nodded. He was gonna have to do the same, apparently. But once Greg woke up, he had a lot of questions to ask. Like why he didn't know about the asthma? He turned back to Greg and sighed; Catherine came up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"He'll be okay, Nicky. Do you want some coffee?"

He washed a hand down his face. "Um, sure. Black, please."

"Sara?"

"Actually, Ray found something on our case. I'm gonna shoot back to the lab, but I'll be back later to kick Greg's ass."

Nick smirked as he sat down next to the bed. Once he was alone, he just watched Greg sleep. He knew it was strange; he knew that if, at any time, the kid woke up and saw him, he'd be creeped out, but he just couldn't shake the image of Greg not breathing…his lips blue and his face ghostly white like he was a corpse. It was the worst thing he had ever experienced. He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to forget it and took Greg's hand again. They used to be so close. What happened between them?

Two hours later, Catherine had left, but Nick remained. He wasn't leaving his friend's side. He was dozing in his chair since he hadn't slept in nearly a day; he had stayed at Catherine's the other night, but he just couldn't close his eyes without seeing the image of Greg nearly dying. He suddenly felt a twitch in his palm and Nick jerked up in surprise. "Greg? Greg, can you hear me?" The blonde moaned and his forehead scrunched up. "Greggo, open your eyes for me, bud." It took a few moments, but Greg's eyes finally blinked up at him, still cloudy with the drugs in his system.

"Nick?" His voice was scratchy and weak from the abuse the swelling had caused.

"Hey man."

Greg squinted and looked around stiffly. He couldn't really remember what happened, but it looked like he was in a hospital. His whole body ached, his throat was dry and tight and head hurt. There was only one other time he felt like this and that was when he had a really bad asthma attack when he was twelve, so…shit. He looked back at Nick who was smiling sadly.

"I had an asthma attack didn't I."

Nick sighed. "Yeah."

"Was it bad?"

Nick just nodded. It being 'bad' was an understatement. "Do you remember when it happened?"

Greg sat up stiffly and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "We were at the bar, right?"

"Yeah and some assholes came in smoking cigars."

"Oh yeah…I went outside and that's all I remember. Everything else is blank."

"You were having a hard time breathing…I didn't know what to do, because you never told me you had this problem. You also didn't tell me you had an attack earlier that day."

Greg looked down at his hands, clearly ashamed. Nick sighed and continued to speak.

"Greg, why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me about this?"

The blonde still kept his eyes down. "I didn't think you'd care."

"What? How could you think that?"

"I…I wasn't sure that we were even friends anymore. I just hasn't seemed like it lately; I don't know if because I've annoyed you or pissed you off somehow or maybe you wish I had died instead of Warrick or-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on. Don't you dare think that, Greg. Don't you dare. I would _never_ want that to happen to you. _Ever._" He grabbed the blonde's hand tightly. "If something like that happened to you, I…I think it would kill me. You're like a little brother to me and I'm supposed to protect you. But I haven't been doing a good job of that lately…and I also understand how you could think that. I know I haven't been a good friend lately, but I promise we still are. I just…I wish you would've told me about this. When you couldn't breathe, I was terrified; I didn't know what to do. I got you to the hospital just in time, otherwise…"

Greg pursed his lips. "I'm sorry, Nick. I know I should've said something."

"I'm just glad you're okay, buddy," The Texan said before bringing the smaller man into a gentle hug. "Though, you better start carrying around your inhaler."

"I know, I know."

They pulled apart and Nick gave Greg a stern look. "I mean it, kid, or else."

Greg yawned, but grinned. "Or else what?"

"Or else I'll make you wear it around your neck every single day."

Greg rolled his eyes and laid back into the pillows. He knew he was going to have no energy whatsoever and probably out of breath, but he felt a little better knowing things with Nick had been squared away.

"Get some sleep, Greg. The doctor said you'll be able to leave later tonight."

Greg smiled weakly before closing his eyes and relaxing into the pillows. Nick let out a deep breath; he never knew Greg had felt that way…that _he_ had come off making the kid think he wanted him, rather than Warrick, dead. He really needed to change his attitude; and there had to be a way to make it up to him.

**7:34pm**

Nick and Greg walked into the Texan's apartment slowly but surely. Greg was sore, exhausted and easily out of breath. Nick hated that the kid was feeling this bad and there was really nothing either of them could do about it.

"Almost there, man," Nick said, as they walked to towards the guest room. Once they finally got there, Greg collapsed on the bed and tried to catch his breath.

"Easy, Greg, easy. I got your inhaler." Nick rummaged through Greg's duffle before finding the prescription bag. He pulled the inhaler out and handed it the blonde. Greg took it in his shaking hands and administered a few puffs before he began to feel better.

"T-Thanks."

"No problem. Do you want something to eat? Or maybe watch some TV?"

Greg shook his head. "M'tired."

Nick pressed his lips together sadly. "Alright, well get changed while I get you a glass of water."

Greg nodded and once Nick was gone, he weakly pushed himself from the bed, grabbed a t-shirt and some sweatpants and changed. By the time he was done, he was out of breath once again. God, he hated feeling like this. Sometimes, the aftermath seemed worse than the actual attack. He sat back down, got underneath the covers and sunk back against the pillows. He didn't realize he had closed his eyes until he was being shook.

"Sorry," Nick said with a sheepish grin, handing him a cup of water. Greg took it gratefully with a smile.

"Do these…these attacks always make you like this?"

Greg finished the drink and gave the glass back to the Texan with a nod. "Unfortunately, yeah. I've heard, sometimes it could take months to get back to normal, but usually in two or three weeks I'll feel better. It just sucks, you know? I can't do anything without getting tired or breathless."

"I'm sorry, bud. I hate that you're going through this; I wish I could trade places with you."

Greg chuckled and shifted on the bed to be comfortable. "No you don't, trust me."

Nick smiled at the light humor and squeezed Greg's arm. "Well at least Catherine gave you a couple weeks of vacation to recuperate. I'm just glad you're okay."

"Me too." He gave the Texan a quick onceover; the man looked exhausted. It made him wonder how long Nick had gone without a good night's sleep…now he felt bad.

Nick made his way to the door until Greg's voice stopped him.

"Hey Nick?"

The older man turned, raising his brow and waiting for Greg to continue.

"I'm sorry, again, that I didn't tell you about my asthma. I can't imagine what you went through."

Nick sighed and moved back into the room, sitting by the blonde on the edge of the bed.

"It's okay…well, it's not okay, but at least I know now. You scared the hell out me, buddy. I never want to go through something like that again and I don't want to watch you suffer like that again, either, and not be able to help you. You can talk to me about anything, Greg, I'll be here for you. Don't forget that. No matter how angry or unapproachable I may be at times, I'm always here for you."

Greg smiled tiredly. "I know. I promise I'll be more careful."

"Good. Now get some rest, you look like crap."

Greg snorted. "Thanks for the compliment."

Nick laughed, slapping Greg's shoulder and standing up. When he reached the door, he was about to ask Greg another question, however when he looked back, the kid was already fast asleep. He smiled, turned off the light and walked to the kitchen. The first thing he was doing tomorrow was going to get another inhaler so he had one on hand just in case. He knew that Greg was pretty forgetful when it came to his own health; that's just the kind of selfless man he was and he admired that, but hated it at the same time. He would let Greg know about it eventually, but for now, he wanted the device so he didn't have to feel as helpless as he did a couple days ago. He wasn't losing that kid to either one of their stupidity. Once he cleaned up the apartment a little, he went to go take a shower, got dressed and climbed into bed. Nick's muscles relaxed and he let his eyes close. Almost half an hour passed and he couldn't fall asleep; he knew Greg was fine and breathing in the other room, yet they were still in the early stages after the attack and he was nervous. This was all new to him, anything could happen. Sighing heavily, he slid out of bed, grabbed a pillow and blanket and shuffled to the guest room. Greg was sleeping peacefully, though his breathing was still raspy. Nick stood there for a moment making sure the slow rise and fall of the CSI's chest didn't stop; when he was satisfied, he tossed the pillow on the floor next to the bed and laid down. The ground wasn't particularly comfortable, but he didn't care. Once he got settled, he closed his eyes and finally felt relaxed.

"Goodnight, Greggo."

**FIN**

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	37. Wrong Turn

**Wrong Turn**

_**Prompt for: Kitties: You should do one about Greg and Warrick and Nick friendship!**_

"Remind me again why we're going to a concert up in Elko?" Warrick griped as he turned onto the highway.

Nick chuckled as he turned to glance at Greg who was sitting in the back seat. "Because, man, when the Rolling Stones are in the state, you don't not go and see them."

"And why couldn't we wait until they were at a closer venue instead of having to drive six hours?"

"There are no closer places unless you want to go all the way to Seattle. Besides, what's wrong with a road trip with your best friends?" Greg smirked.

"Because we're gonna have to listen to Nick's country CD the whole way."

Greg's eyes widened. "No we're not…Nick?"

The Texan pulled out a CD and grinned before putting it in the player. Greg groaned, leaning back in the seat. "Seriously? My ears are going to burn off. Maybe I should just walk."

Nick snorted. "Stop being so dramatic, Greggo. It's not that bad. I'm surprised you haven't gotten used to it by now." He pressed a few buttons and country blasted through the speakers. Both Warrick and Greg groaned in misery while Nick just laughed. For three hours, they were subjected to Nick's torture until he finally let Warrick turn on the radio. He wasn't happy about the Christmas music he decided to play, but went along with it. Greg fell asleep for an hour and Nick almost pulled a prank, but decided against it…for now. Everything was going fine, until they were almost two hours out and Warrick had gone of the highway, thinking it would be easier…but he had no idea they were going to be hit with a ton of snow.

"What the…man, this makes me miss the one-hundred-degree weather in Texas."

"Did you know the weather was going to be this bad?" Warrick, said, speeding up the windshield wipers.

"No, it must've just come out of nowhere."

"Well, I hope you know how to get there, because I can barely see a thing." It got bumpy and Greg sat up.

"Are we still even on the road?"

Warrick started to slow down when they came up to a sharp turn, but suddenly, headlights appeared out of nowhere and another car was heading straight for them. Warrick jerked the wheel and the tires skid on the snow, making him lose control. The other vehicle slammed into their side, pushing them over the hill and sending the three tumbling. By the time the car reached the bottom, surprisingly upright, all three of the CSI's were bleeding and unconscious. The snow storm grew stronger and it was only a matter of time before they were buried alive under the blanket of white.

~+CSI+~

Nick jerked awake with a gasp, hissing in pain when he jostled his arm. _Definitely broken._ He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ease the immense pounding in his head, but it didn't do much to help. The Texan groaned, feeling something warm and wet drip down the side of his face. With his good arm, he lifted his hand to wipe it off and his palm came back red.

"Shit." _What happened?_ It was dark and extremely cold; it looked like he was in a car. When he looked to his left, he saw Warrick slumped against the window, blood trickling from his temple.

"'R-Rick?" He grunted, leaning over to shake the man's shoulder. "Warrick, wake up."

The older man groaned and his body twitched; Nick sighed in relief…until he remembered Greg. He spun around, despite his aching body, hoping to see Greg in the same position and not injured…but he wasn't. He wasn't there at all. "Greg? Oh god." He felt a draft and Nick turned the other way to see the window behind him was smashed open. Which meant the kid was thrown out at some point…that he didn't have his seatbelt on…that he was probably lying somewhere in the snow, hurt badly. "Oh no, oh no. Warrick, wake up!"

"Huh? Ugh, fuck, Nick, stop shouting, will you?"

"No, Greg's missing."

Warrick opened his eyes and looked around. "What? What are you talking about? Where is he?"

"He was thrown from the car," Nick breathed heavily, trying to undo his seatbelt. "We have to find him; he could be hurt."

"And you are too, man, look," Warrick said, pointing to Nick's arm.

The Texan frowned and noticed that not only was his arm broken, but there was an open wound with part of his bone sticking out. Why didn't he feel that? "Shit." There were also a few gashes on his left leg and each movement made him groan. "I don't care; we need to find him." Stiffly, he unbuckled and kicked open the door, snow spilling into the car. Clutching his arm to his chest, Nick fell to his knees before getting to his feet.

"Greg!?" He began searching the area, afraid of what he might find. "Greg!" He trudged through the snow, shivering in both shock and fear. "Greg, can you hear me?"

"Greg!" Warrick shouted, getting out of the car as well. Surprisingly, the only injuries he got were a few broken ribs, some cuts and possibly a concussion, but right now he felt fine. They both walked closer towards the trees lining the bottom of the hill and that's when Nick saw the blonde, half buried in the snow, and unmoving.

"Oh my god," Nick choked, running forward and getting to his knees next to the man, brushing off the accumulated snow. "Greg? Greg!" The blonde was almost as pale as a ghost, his lips were blue, blood was dripping from the back of his head, from his busted lip, his nose and there was a rip in his shirt where a huge gash appeared across his chest. Shakily, Nick pressed his fingers to Greg's bruised neck, sighing when he felt a weak flutter. He cupped the younger man's cheek before slapping it in hopes to rouse him. "Greggo buddy? Greg, wake up, please say something." Nick was beginning to fear the worse when, suddenly, Greg's lips parted slightly, letting out a small groan and a coughing fit. Nick smiled in relief. "Easy, bud, easy. You're okay."

Greg's eyes blinked open and he looked at the Texan sluggishly. "Ni-Nick?"

"Hey buddy."

Greg coughed again, blood splattering onto his lips. "Wha' happ'n'd?" He slurred.

"Car crash," Nick replied, painfully removing his coat and placing it over Greg trembling body. "How are you feeling?"

"C-Cold. Ch-Chest hurts…m'head h-hurts." Greg closed his eyes until Nick shook him gently, forcing him awake.

Nick turned to Warrick. "We gotta get him out of here."

Warrick rubbed his arms. "How, we don't even know where 'here' is?"

"My phone is crushed, who knows where Greg's is…what about you?"

"Dead," Warrick grumbled.

Nick huffed. "We're gonna have to walk, then; maybe get back up to the road and find help." Focusing back on Greg, he cleared his throat. "Hey, G, think you can walk?"

"E-Everything hurts."

"I know, but we have to move or we're all gonna freeze to death. Come on, I'll help you sit up on three. Ready?"

Greg nodded and Nick snaked his good arm around the blonde's back, gripping him gently. "Okay, one…two…three." Greg sat up with a cry of pain, tears dripping down his face. Nick apologized before he quickly lifted the man to his feet. By the time they were situated, Greg was hardly conscious and wheezing.

"Alright, good job, now we have to get up that hill."

"N-Need…to b-breathe f-first."

"Okay, take your time." Once he steadied the man, Nick picked his jacket up from the ground and draped it over Greg's shoulders. Warrick went to grab a flashlight from his vehicle and a lighter before joining the others again. Once the blonde felt ready to walk, Warrick got on the other side and the two older men helped Greg up the hill. It was a tedious trek, but they finally made it to the top. However, there was no visible road and it was starting to get dark.

"Which way should we go?" Nick asked, shifting Greg higher on his waist. "That asshole didn't even stop." Now his best friend was seriously injured.

"Well, we didn't pass anything on the way here, so let just keep going the way we were headed. Hopefully there's a gas station or something," Warrick chattered and then glanced at Nick, noticing that he was only wearing a t-shirt now that he gave his own jacket to Greg. He knew the Texan wouldn't care, but the temperature was dropping and soon they were all going to be in trouble. Walking seemed easier said than done; it was getting late, it was getting colder. Nick was sneezing, Greg was barely hanging on, tripping over his own feet and leaning more into the older CSI.

"Greg," Nick panted when the blonde started dragging his feet. "Greg, stay awake, buddy. We're almost there." He didn't know where 'there' exactly was, but they had to be close to something; they had been walking for almost two hours and were pretty sure they weren't even on the road anymore. But instead of trying to straighten up, Greg's knees buckled, sending him to the ground and bringing Nick with him. "Greg!" The blonde slid from his grip and into the snow. His skin was tinted gray, his breathing was getting worse and he was shivering violently. Nick knew his jacket wasn't really that warm, but it was the best he could scrounge up. "G-Greg!" He hissed, slapping the man's cheek. And that's when he noticed Greg's shirt was completely soaked in red. "D-Dammit. Warrick, we need to stop."

The older CSI took a deep breath and scanned the area. "Alright, s-stay with him, I'll go look around to find a p-place to stay for the rest of the n-night."

Nick pursed his lips as Warrick walked off; he then brought Greg's upper body into his arms, tightening his grip with his uninjured arm. "I'm so sorry this happened, man. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. We should be at the hotel right now getting ready to see a kick-ass concert. Now…" Now Greg was dying. He didn't want to think about it, but it was looking that way. He tightened the jacket around the man's violently shivering body and sniffed. "Greg please say something. You're scaring me." Almost as if on command, the blonde's eyes flickered open.

"N-N-Nick? Why s'it so c-cold?"

"C-Cause we're outside in the s-snow…and you're dy…bleeding."

"S-Screwed up…didn't buckle. M'sorry."

"It's okay. I'm a little m-mad at you for not b-being smart about it, b-but I'm glad you're alive."

Greg smiled weakly and rested his head against Nick's chest. "Gonna miss…the concert."

"We'll g-get other t-tickets. I promise, when w-we get out of here, I'll take you to another concert."

"Hey Nick!" Warrick shouted, coming out from behind some trees, the flashlight beam blinding them. "You'll never believe it; I f-found an old campsite. I got a fire s-started too."

Nick smiled. "Thank god. Alright, Greg, we gotta stand again, but it won't be for long. Ready?"

Greg nodded and once he got to his feet, they followed Warrick into a tent of trees that provided shelter. A small fire was going and there were logs in a circle around the pit, the area nearly void of snow; it actually looked comfortable if it weren't given their situation. Nick sat Greg down at the long closest log and squeezed his shoulder.

"You okay, bud?" Nick smirked.

Even though he was breathing kind of heavily and was still trembling, Greg forced a smile then closed his eyes. Nick sighed and went to go stand next to the flames with Warrick. He couldn't even feel his arm, though thankfully the cold stopped the wound from bleeding.

"How is he?" Warrick said, rubbing his hands together.

"He's not doing good," Nick said, glancing back at the blonde. "I wish we had a blanket or something. We have to get out of here. He's dying, my arm is fucked up and I'm sure you're hurt, too."

"I know, I know. We'll start walking again, tomorrow. Maybe there's a cabin or something that's close."

"Yeah, hopefully," Nick shuddered.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Your arm, it looks infected."

"It doesn't hurt…that's probably not a good thing, but right now there's nothing I can do about it."

"Yeah."

"You okay?"

"Couple of cracked ribs, probably a slight concussion, but I'm fine."

Nick bobbed his head. "Man, I can't believe this happened. Cath and Grissom are not going to believe it. Maybe coming up here wasn't such a good idea." He coughed into his sleeve and wiped his nose. This was a nightmare.

Warrick pressed his lips together. "Why don't you go try and relax, man, I'll keep up with the fire."

Nick let out a deep breath before patting Warrick on the arm and going to sit with Greg. He pulled the blonde close to him, letting the kid rest his head on his shoulder. He hated that he could feel the tremors running through the younger CSI's body. It wasn't a good sign. It wasn't long before he drifted off as well. Warrick smiled before staring into the fire; they really needed to get medical attention. Greg more than anyone. Nick was right, the kid was dying.

~+C+~

"Nick…Nick, wake up!"

The Texan jerked awake, groaning in pain, forcing his eyes to open. "Huh? What happened, what's going on?" Warrick was hovering over him.

"I think there's something just over that hill. I can see smoke."

Nick's heart leapt and then turned to Greg…he was still sleeping. _Hopefully, sleeping._ "Greg?" He moved closer and could hear the weak- very weak- and scratchy breathing. His skin was void of color besides his lips which were ocean blue. "Greggo?" He shook the man's shoulder, but got no response. "Oh god…we should've woke him up early…what if-"

"Nick, he's gonna be okay. We just gotta get him out of the cold. Here, take my jacket, you probably already have a small case of hypothermia and I don't need two of my best friends dying."

"What about Greg?" Nick questioned, pulling on the coat. He had to admit, he was freezing, but he would always put Greg before him any day.

"I got him. Just worry about yourself. I really don't like the look of that arm, man."

Nick swallowed. He had been worried about it, too; he hoped it didn't have to be amputated. Warrick tried, again, to wake the blonde up, but nothing changed. So, with Nick's help, they lifted Greg onto Warrick's back and he made sure to lean forward so the kid wouldn't slip off. It put a lot of weight onto his broken ribs, he was exhausted and barely slept at all last night to keep the fire going, but he was the older brother. He had to take care of his siblings even if it meant sacrificing his own injuries. Thankfully, Greg was pretty light anyways. Throughout the walk he grew a little concerned on how many times Nick stumbled or how violently he coughed and also from the lack of noise from Greg. The only comfort he got was the younger CSI's weak breath on his neck. "We're almost there, kid. Just hang on a little longer."

The two conscious CSI's almost cried with joy when they saw a cabin up ahead, smoke billowing out of the chimney.

"I just hope they're not hillbilly cannibals," Warrick muttered. Once they reached the door, Nick politely knocked on the door so they wouldn't scare these people- if they were normal- into shooting them. When the door swung open, the man did have a gun in his hand, but it was down by his side. He looked like he was in his sixties, his eyes were kind and his body seemed relaxed but ready to fight if needed.

"Can I help you?" He turned his head and saw Warrick who was carrying a still unconscious Greg. "Jesus Christ, what happened to you fellas?"

"Car ran us off the road," Nick coughed, feeling his energy waning. "We crashed, my friend…he's hurt bad. We were walking all night…he won't wake up." Nick's legs suddenly went weak and he started his descent to the ground. The man got rid of the gun and stepped forward quickly, catching the Texan in his arms.

"Molly! Get some blankets and warm up the pot!" He bobbed his head to Warrick. "Come on in, you boys must be freezing."

Warrick exhaled, feeling the tension melt from his body. They were safe now. The woman, Molly, had graying blonde hair and a wrinkled but warm face. She helped Nick sit in a chair by the fire while the man helped Warrick with Greg, laying him down on the couch. Once Nick was wrapped in a few blankets, Molly came over and inspected the other victim.

"Roger, can you go get the first aid kit from the bathroom?"

The man left while Molly knelt down by Greg's chest, gently removing his shirt the was stuck to his skin. She inhaled sharply when she saw the deep, infected laceration going from the top of Greg's right shoulder to his left side.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Warrick asked, pulling a blanket around his body.

"It's severely infected, but I'll see what I can do."

"S-Should I call for help?"

"I'm afraid that won't do much good."

"Wh-Why…n-not?" Nick chattered.

"The storm is picking up again. No one's gonna be able to get out here until tomorrow morning at least, but I promise I'll do everything I can to make your friend better. What's his name?"

"G-Greg."

Roger came back and handed the kit to Molly and the woman quickly got to work. Greg didn't move an inch which worried all of them. He had been unconscious for too long. Roger left and returned again with two cups of hot chocolate for Warrick and Nick.

"Thanks," Warrick said, sitting on the ground while Roger took another chair.

"So, what were you boys doing up here anyways? We barely get any outsiders up here in Elko. What are your names?"

"I'm Warrick, that's Nick, and Greg. We're CSI's from Las Vegas."

"Vegas?!" Roger chuckled. "You're really far from home."

"Yeah, well, we were going to a concert up here, the Rolling Stones. We were suddenly hit with the snow and out of nowhere, a car was on our side of the road, hit us and sent us over a cliff. Nick got a really bad broken arm, I have a few broken ribs, we probably all have concussions, but Greg was thrown from the car. We had to walk for almost four hours before stopping for the night. I made a fire, but by morning, we were just as worse. Greg wouldn't wake up, but I saw the smoke from your chimney and now we're here."

"Well, it's a good thing you found us before the second storm hit. You would've been buried alive out there," Roger replied, sitting back in the chair. "How's Greg, dear?"

"I don't like the sound of his breathing and the infection is going to give him a fever when his temperature rises. Not to mention he's suffering severe hypothermia and hypovolemic shock. I've cleaned and bandaged the wound the best I could as well." She lifted Greg's eyelids and sighed. "He has a concussion as well; I wouldn't be surprised if he slipped into a coma due to all the trauma his body has gone through." She began to remove the blonde's wet clothes that had nearly froze to his body until he was stripped to his boxers. Nick looked away, knowing Greg wouldn't be too thrilled that everyone saw him half naked or that a stranger was undressing him.

"Molly was a nurse at Mercy. She retired last year, but she's still a natural at these things." Roger got up and fed the fire while Molly wrapped Greg into a cocoon of blankets, making sure he was comfortable.

"Alright, that should do it for now. Once the temperature is up, we'll have to watch what the infection does to him." Molly got to her feet and moved over to Nick. "After this, I'll go make some more hot chocolate and call the ranger so he can send help first thing when the storm ends."

"Thank you," Warrick said. "Thanks, both of you. You saved our asses big time."

"No problem," Roger smiled. "We're glad to help. Why don't you get some rest, son, you look exhausted. Your friends are being cared for."

Warrick glanced at Nick, who was now passed out, his arm being cared for by Molly and Greg who looked peaceful even though his condition was dire. They were safe now, he guessed he could close his eyes for a little bit.

A few hours later, Nick awoke and Molly was there to give him some pain pills. He thanked her before going to sit in the chair next to Greg, while keeping the blanket over his shoulders. He was still pretty cold, but the fire had warmed him up and the sleep helped as well. He didn't like that Greg was still unconscious, still in the position he was in before. It worried him that Greg actually might be in a coma. He placed his hand on the man's forehead; it was clammy and he could tell the blonde's temperature was rising, which was good. For now, anyways.

"Hey buddy," he said, his voice rough. He cleared it and took a deep breath. "You're gonna be okay…you have to be." Nick brushed back some strands and sighed. "Please wake up, Greg; you can't leave me like this." He reached under the blanket and took the kid's hand, squeezing it gently. It was still so cold. "Jesus."

Greg suddenly moaned weakly and before Nick could say anything, Molly came up to them, taking the kid's temperature. "It seems to be going up, but that means the infection is going to appear as well. I'm going to get a cloth to put on his forehead." When Molly left again, Nick leaned forward.

"Greggo?"

The blonde groaned again and Nick's heart leapt. "Greg, can you hear me, bud?"

"Hmmm?" Greg's eyes, even though they were glazed over, opened and Nick laughed in relief. _Thank god._

"Hey, kid. It's about time you wake up, you scared me."

"Where m'I?"

"Some cabin. But we're safe now."

"Y'kay?"

Nick smiled weakly. "Yeah, man."

"S'hot," Greg mumbled, his eyes closing again while trying to get out of the blankets.

"Hey, stop, you need to stay under those. After being out in the cold for so long, I would say it's a good, thing but your wound got infected and you're getting a fever. Molly is gonna bring you a wet cloth, though."

"M-Molly?" Greg frowned, peeling his eyes open again; everything was so blurry and voices were fading in and out. What was wrong with him?

"That's me, dear," Molly smiled, coming into the blonde's vision. "I know you're warm, but that's your body fighting off the infection. She gave Nick a bowl of water, before dipping a cloth under, wringing it out and placing it gently over Greg's forehead.

"I'll let you take care of him, Hun," she said to Nick. "Just re-soak it every now and then."

"He's gonna be okay, right?" Nick asked quietly.

"Right now, he's holding on."

Nick knew there was a 'but' in the sentence she didn't want to mention. _But, if they didn't get him to a hospital soon, he _was_ going to die._ The Texan nodded. "Thank you, Molly."

"If you need anything else, dear, just holler."

"Nick?" Greg exhaled.

"Yeah, G?"

"Can I sleep?"

"Yeah…close your eyes. I'll be here when you wake up."

Greg was out cold before Nick finished his sentence.

But Greg didn't wake up. Not for the rest of the day or night, not when the medevac arrived early the next morning, not when the paramedics strapped him onto a gurney or put an oxygen mask over his face, not when they all boarded the helicopter and not even on the ride to some small hospital in Elko. It concerned everyone, even the doctors and Nick knew if the they were worried, it wasn't a good thing. While Greg was taken away to surgery, Nick was taken to get his arm dealt with and Warrick was getting his injuries checked over. Thankfully, the Texan's arm didn't have to be cut off, but would have to wear the cast for two months give or take. Warrick was released a few hours later with orders to take it easy, but Nick's doctor wanted to keep him overnight to watch his concussion. The CSI wasn't happy about the fact, wanting to be ready for when Greg got out of surgery. And no matter how tired he was, he couldn't sleep; he couldn't close his eyes without nightmares of Greg dying plaguing his mind.

Warrick had called Catherine, letting her know the situation, and by noon, she, Grissom and Sara were at the hospital, waiting for news on their youngest CSI.

"We stopped by the local precinct," Grissom sighed, sitting by Nick's bed. "They had actually called us right before Warrick did. They started an investigation into the crash almost right after you got here. Once they realized CSI's were involved, they called us to help."

"We were terrified," Sara said. "Especially when they showed us the pictures of Greg."

"When did they take pictures? When did they come?" Nick frowned.

"You fell asleep." Warrick replied.

"I don't even remember that," Nick groaned, massaging his temple. "Did you get the guy?"

"We're working on it, Nicky," Catherine smiled sadly. "In the meantime, you should relax."

"I can't relax! I can't, not knowing if Greg is gonna make it or not," Nick choked.

"Greg's going to make it," Warrick said, shifting to take the pressure off his healing ribs. "He's stronger than he looks, you know."

Nick ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah. He was just…"

A knock at the door interrupted him and they all looked up to see Greg's doctor entering the room.

"Dr. Riley," Warrick said, already knowing the woman from previously meeting with her. "Is Greg out of surgery?"

"Yes and he's stable. His blood pressure was extremely low when he was brought in, along with his heartrate. His temperature was also extremely high, but we've got him on antibiotics to bring the fever down. He also obtained a sprained ankle and a pretty bad concussion. He lost a lot of blood, but his condition is looking good at the moment. The wound was pretty badly infected, but we've cleaned and stitched it up. He'll be extremely sore, like most car crash victims, and there were a lot of bruises and shallow cuts on other parts of his body as well, but we'll be keeping an eye on him for the next few days."

"Is he awake?" Nick asked, sitting up. "Can we see him?"

"We're going to restrict visitors for the rest of the day to allow his body to start fighting the infection. But possibly tonight- depending on the progress of his healing- or tomorrow morning. It was very close, but he was lucky and going to be okay."

Nick sighed and stared up at the ceiling. _Thank god._

~+CSI+~

Greg didn't wake up for almost three days; Nick refused to leave the kid's side once they were allowed to sit with him. And when Greg did wake up, he was groggy and confused and didn't remember anything besides the fact that they were supposed to be going to a concert. Nick was beyond ecstatic that his best friend was awake and brought the blonde into a tight hug, only pulling away quickly when Greg hissed in pain.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," he apologized guiltily.

"It's okay," Greg replied, forcing a smile. "It's just really sensitive there. So, what happened again?"

Warrick sat down on the other side of the blonde's bed. "It was already hard to see to begin with, with the snow coming down pretty hard and some asshole ran us off the road. You were thrown from the car and hurt really badly. We had to walk for a while and then we found an old couple who owned a cabin and they took care of us until help was able to bring us here. You were lucky, kid. The doctor said it had been pretty bad."

Greg rubbed his eyes tiredly and yawned. "Well, whatever you guys did, thanks. I'm alive because of you."

Both Warrick and Nick smiled. They were all gonna be okay.

**Two Weeks Later**

"Damn, I'm so glad we don't live up here," Warrick shivered. "Even with two jackets, a hat, scarf and gloves, I'm still freezing my ass off."

"Me too," Nick coughed. "And I'm getting a draft through my empty sleeve."

"How the hell did we even survive up here?" Greg shuddered. He was the most bundled up at all, courtesy of mother-hen Nick Stokes, but he was still kind of cold. It had been two weeks since Greg left the hospital and he still felt far from normal. Nick had invited him to stay over at his place and he almost declined, but he could tell- just by the look on the guy's face- that what they had gone through together was hell. They recovered surely but slowly, they all talked, went out for drinks with Warrick, watched the game and they knew it would take another week or so to go back to the ways things were, but they had each other. Now they were back up in Elko, more prepared, drove on the highway the whole time instead of taking the back road, and bearing food for Roger and Molly. The CSI's wouldn't be alive without them.

"Nick, Warrick, Greg!" Molly beamed. "This is a surprise!" She stood out of the way and ushered them in while Roger emerged from the kitchen.

"Boys! What bring you back here? Didn't crash again, I hope?"

"No, we got here in one piece," Warrick grinned. "We come bearing gifts, but we know it's not nearly enough payment for what you did for us."

"Oh, nonsense," Molly smiled. "We're just glad we could help and glad you're alright." She went over to Greg and cupped his cheek. "A lot warmer this time around; you really gave Roger and I a scare. We're so happy you pulled through."

Greg smiled. "Thank you, Molly. I know I wouldn't be here without you."

The woman grinned before Roger spoke. "So, what did you bring?"

"Well, it's getting close to Christmas and they had a really good deal on ham, so I cooked one," the Texan said, seeming proud of himself.

"We also brought green beans, mashed potatoes and an apple pie," Warrick grinned. "But store bought, because none of us know how to make one."

Roger chuckled and Molly took the food. "You boys are staying right?"

The three just glanced at each other; they weren't really planning on staying, especially since they basically just showed up to their house without invitation.

"Of course they are," Molly said, setting up places for them at the table. "Don't tell me you drove six hours, made this delicious meal and don't plan to eat any of it."

"Are you sure?" Nick asked. "We don't want to impose."

Molly just waved for them to come into the kitchen. "We insist. Come, come."

The boys grinned and sat down next to each other. Molly pulled out a bottle of sparkling cider and poured them all glasses while Roger started cutting up the ham. Christmas music was turned on, the food was passed out and they began to eat, telling stories and joking around. Greg smiled the brightest; he was lucky to have friends like these and with his job, his faith in humanity had dwindled, but after this ordeal, it started to grow once more. Normalcy would come quicker than he thought.

**FIN**

**Not sure if it would really snow that much up in Elko, but let's pretend haha**

**I'll try to update here more, I promise!**

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	38. Deadly Secrets

**Deadly Secrets**

_**Prompt for: Nico225: Can you do one where Greg gets hurt but he doesn't tell the team/Nick and it gets infected? Thx:)**_

**Enjoy!**

Greg had been having a pretty rough week; he failed his proficiency exam, his replacement had quit almost right after and it felt like Nick and Warrick were laughing at him behind his back. Almost like they didn't believe he could become a CSI. Maybe he was pathetic for trying; maybe he should just not even use his second chance Grissom gave him. Was there even a point? He was going to be confined to fingerprints and DNA and staring at blood and fluids through a microscope for the rest of his life. The blonde sighed as he got out of his car and made his way to his apartment. The landlord was having the parking lot redone so everyone was forced to park a quarter of a mile away from the building, which sucked, especially when working the swing shift had him out after midnight. His neighborhood was fairly safe, but you could never be too careful. However, he was really tired so he didn't see the two people come out of nowhere and punch him to the ground. Greg yelped in pain from the force, hitting his head on the pavement. Dazed, he blinked up to see two men looming over him.

"W-Who…what do you want?" How could this week get any worse?

"Give us your money and your car keys!"

"I don't h-have anything," Greg whimpered, trying to push himself away.

The men cackled and a steel-toed boot came swinging towards his stomach. Greg grunted in shock of getting the wind knocked out of him. He wheezed, eyes wide as his lungs grew tight.

"I'm not gonna ask you again, pretty boy. Give us the money and _maybe_ we won't kill you." Greg was kicked again, more brutally this time and propelling him backwards. The blonde coughed, spitting blood out of his mouth. His arms shook as he tried to push himself up. But he felt so weak and his stomach hurt.

"P-Please…stop. Here," he said, throwing his car keys and wallet out at them. "Just t-take it. Please s-stop hurting me."

"Nah, we're having too much fun!" They both kept kicking and punching him, getting off on his pain. Greg choked a sob, just letting it happen because there was nothing else he could do. It wasn't until he was barely conscious that they stopped, taking his things and running to his car. A minute later, Greg could hear the car driving away and then there was nothing but silence in the cold night air. The blonde coughed and choked, weakly sitting up and leaning against the wall of his building. His whole body pulsed angrily, especially his lower left side. Breathing heavily, Greg wiped his mouth, knowing he couldn't pass out here. He had to clean up, he had to hide this. Is anyone found out, they would make fun of him. Another thing that he couldn't get right. Whimpering, he got to his feet and limping inside until reaching his apartment. After carefully washing the blood from his face and taking a bunch of pain pills, Greg stiffly walked over to the bed and immediately passed out, unknowing that he was already starting to bleed internally.

~+CSI+~

"Hey bud, what's with the sunglasses," Nick smirked when he saw Greg entering the locker room for his shift. He still had two more hours left on his own; he hated that they weren't on the same team anymore. With Catherine, Warrick and Greg being on the swing shift and him Sara and Gris being on the night shift, it wasn't the same anymore. He missed his best friends, especially Greg. He could tell Greg was feeling down since he failed his proficiency test and Chandra quit right after. No one could handle being a DNA tech like Greg; the kid was the best, but he also knew that the blonde really wanted to be a CSI and he knew the man had really tried. Thankfully, Grissom had given Greg a second chance, but it clearly didn't look like he was excited about it.

"Oh, um, I think I'm getting a migraine," Greg lied tersely. He was really just hiding the massive black-eye and bruise on his temple. He took pain pills before coming in for his shift, but they were low-grade and his side was seriously killing him. Even walking seemed like a chore; he could feel himself already sweating. Great, if Nick found out…

"Oh, sorry to hear that, man. Are you sure you're up to working?"

Greg hid his face in his locker, pulling off the glasses and staring at the ugly bruise in the mirror. How the hell was he gonna explain this? He couldn't go walking around all day with sunglasses on. "Yeah…yeah, I'm fine." He said from behind the locker door. He shifted his weight to ease the pressure off his side, but the movement jostled his possibly broken ribs. He inhaled sharply, pain blinding him for a brief second.

"Hey, are you alright?" Nick stepped over and gasped when he saw the blonde's face. "Holy shit, kid what the hell happened to your eye?"

Greg took in a shaky breath. "Um…w-walked…I opened my car door and it hit me in the face." Another lie, because he didn't even have his car; it was stolen along with his wallet and also another thing he was gonna have to deal with at some point.

Nick frowned. He could tell Greg was lying to him…but why? He was about to say something, but Greg shut the locker and headed for the door. There was something off about the kid; he was sweating and pale. "Are you sure you're okay, buddy?"

"I'm fine," he seethed, the intense pain making him irritable. "Even if I wasn't, would you care?"

"What?"

"I saw you and Warrick, Nick." God his head was hurting so bad. "You've been laughing behind my back that I couldn't even pass my test. You don't think I can become a CSI, right?"

"Greg, that's not-"

"Save it," Greg snapped, wincing when his side flared up again. This felt like more than aching bruises. "Just leave me alone." He pushed past the Texan and went to go find Catherine. He hoped he didn't have to work with too much with Warrick. He was sure between now and leaving the scene, they would talk about him some more.

Throughout the night, he got questioned more than once as to why he was limping or sweating so much. Thankfully, Catherine and Warrick had gone to the scene, so all he had to do was sit, process the evidence and try not to pass out. He tried to eat, even when he felt nauseous, but one bite of his sandwich immediately sent him to the bathroom.

Nick had volunteered to stay behind to finish up paperwork with Grissom for his case, but it was also mostly to stay behind to keep an eye on Greg. Something was wrong; he knew the kid was depressed about not passing his exam and he was going to offer to bring the blonde out for drinks, but Greg had immediately gone home. And he felt really bad that Greg thought they were laughing at his failure. He had to fix things and quick. He was about to head to Grissom's office to ask him a question when Greg rushed past him, disappearing into the bathroom. Alarmed, the Texan quickly followed; his heart broke when he heard violently retching coming from the first stall. _Jesus._

"Greg? Greg, is that you in there?"

The blonde gasped, wiping the bile from his mouth. It was Nick; he couldn't let the guy see him like this. His stomach lurched and he puked again, his side burning. Everything hurt so much, he wanted to cry. This whole day has been excruciating for him, not to mention the constant "are you okay?" from everyone that saw him.

"Greg, come on man, answer me."

When he finished, he was trembling violently and left with no energy. Not even to speak; he was so tired. Greg laid his head down on his arm, breathing heavily. He would've fallen asleep, too, if Nick had just left him alone.

"That's it, I'm coming in." The door wasn't locked well, giving Nick the opportunity to wrench the door open. The sight was heartbreaking; Greg was on the floor, resting against the toilet and wheezing. His face was extremely pale and sweat soaked his face and t-shirt. The kid was definitely sick…well, he hoped that's all it was. He placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder, causing Greg to flinch.

"Hey, it's okay bud, it's just me."

Greg opened his eyes, staring at him wearily. "Nick?"

"Yeah…you feeling okay?"

"Never better," Greg groaned, pushing his head up.

The Texan pressed the back of his hand to Greg's forehead and hissed. "You're burning up, man."

"M'fine. Just a stomach bug."

"Greg, I know you're lying to me. You been acting weird all day."

"Nick, I'm f-fine," Greg replied, shakily getting to his feet, letting Nick help him. Once he was steady, Nick flushed the toilet and led him to the sink. Greg splashed his face and took a deep breath; only a couple more hours and then he could go home for the weekend. After wiping his face with a paper towel, he glanced at Nick through the mirror. "Stop staring at me. I swear I'm okay."

Nick scoffed. "Says the guy who was puking his guts out. You're not okay. Spill."

Greg rolled his eyes, but that only made his head hurt more. He had to make a note not to do that again. "It was probably something I ate."

Nick pressed his lips together and Greg knew he wasn't buying it.

"I swear, Nick. I just need to finish this shift and then go home and sleep it off." Greg rubbed his eyes and made his way to the door.

"Greg, about earlier," Nick spoke up. "I promise Warrick and I weren't making fun of you. I genuinely feel horrible about what happened. But look on the bright side, Grissom gave you another shot right?"

"Yeah, only if I can find a replacement for Chandra and we both know how easy that's gonna be," Greg finished sarcastically. He sighed. "Could you not tell anyone about this?"

"Greg-"

"Thanks." Before the Texan could answer, Greg was already out the door.

"Dammit."

~+C+~

Greg thought he was in the clear when his shift was ending in fifteen minutes, but then Warrick stopped him in the hall.

"Hey Greg, Cath got a lead and wants us to go confront the suspect." He had touched the blonde's back and Greg jerked away with a gasp. Warrick's eyes widened in shock.

"Whoa, what was that? Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

Greg exhaled shakily, that one touch from Warrick making all the bruises on his body flare up. He had been trying to be subtle, but now he just blew his cover.

"Greg?"

"Uh…yeah I'm fine. I feel down the stairs yesterday. My body is a little banged up."

"Oh…are you sure you're alright? If you're not up for this, I can have Cath-"

"No!" Greg blurted out, but immediately cleared his throat in embarrassment when he got a few confused looks. "I told you I'm good. Just sore."

Warrick's brows furrowed. Now that he actually looked at the kid, he realized something was seriously off. He looked sick and about ready to pass out; Greg was hiding something, but he knew the blonde wouldn't tell him what it was. "Alright. Let's go then."

Greg nodded, wiping the sweat from his forehead, following the older man out to the car. His side was hurting more than ever, almost to the point where he was going to puke again, but he had to hold it back. He couldn't be weak in the field and especially not in front of Warrick. The guy already had enough to make fun of him. When they got to the suspect's building, Brass was already there waiting for them.

"Tyler Roberts' car is in the lot, I talked to his neighbor, he should be in his apartment."

Warrick bobbed his head and was about to follow Brass into the apartment building, but noticed Greg wasn't following. He was leaning against the car, his face void of all color and breathing noisily. The older CSI glanced into the building before going up to the blonde. He would've put his hand on the kid's shoulder, but remembered he was sensitive.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Greg's head was swimming and he could barely see straight. If he went in there with the others, he would either get hurt or someone else would. He didn't want to get in trouble again; he didn't want to be a screw-up. "I'm n-not feeling too good."

Warrick pursed his lips sympathetically. "You might've broken something from falling down the stairs. I'm not really surprised; it'd be a miracle if you didn't."

"M'sorry."

"No need to be sorry, man. It happens. Just stay here and once we get Roberts out, I'll take you to get checked up at the hospital." He gently placed his hand on Greg's arm and the man nodded.

"Okay." He probably should've gone to the hospital earlier, because he _knew_ something was wrong. He stomach was really hurting and he felt dizzy, but there was really no turning back. He just had to wait.

Warrick smirked, promising he'd be back and then rushed into the building. Greg waited patiently, trying not to throw up or pass out. He was about to close his eyes when he heard a few shouts and saw a figure climbing down the fire escape ladders and when he squinted, he recognized the man as Tyler Roberts, their suspect. He glanced around, hoping an officer or Warrick or Brass would show up, but they were falling behind. Roberts was gonna get away if he didn't do something. Hesitating for a brief second, debating between his life and getting a potential killer off the streets, Greg chose the latter and as much as it pained him, he began running into the alley after Roberts.

"Hey! LVPD, stop!" His vision was doubling, but he could see he was getting closer. "Tyler Roberts!" He was close…so close…and he was gonna have to tackle the guy. It was probably gonna kill him, but he had to do it. Leaping forward, he wrapped his arms around Tyler's waist and brought him to the ground with brutal force. The second they hit the pavement together, an excruciating pain exploded in his side, causing him to gasp loudly. Working past the intense stabbing, he shakily pulled out his handcuffs and shackled Tyler's wrists together. At least if he died, he wouldn't be dying a failure. A runner was usually always guilty of something; even if he wasn't the murderer, there was probably something else. Greg's cheeks bulged; he felt really cold all of a sudden. His heart was beating fast and it was getting hard to breathe.

"Damn, Greg!" Warrick shouted, running up to them. He saw the whole thing and he was pretty impressed. "Good job, man." But instead of getting a reply, he watched Greg crawl off the suspect, stumble to his feet before vomiting and falling back onto the ground.

"Greg!" Warrick rushed forward and got to his knees next to the man. "Oh shit. Call an ambulance!" There was blood in the puke. Not good. "Greg. Greg, man talk to me." Warrick rolled the blonde over and cradled his upper body in his lap. He was terrified; what was wrong with Greg?

"W-Warrick?" Greg coughed, blood appearing on his lip. "What's g-going on?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

"My stomach r-really hurts…it really h-hurts, 'Rick."

"Okay, okay; just hang on, I'm gonna look."

"N-No…don't," Greg wheezed frantically. He was gonna see the bruises.

"Greg, I need to look."

The man choked. He was too weak to argue; he could barely keep his eyes open. Warrick swallowed, carefully lifting up Greg's t-shirt. What he saw made his blood run cold. Greg's torso was littered in bruises, consistent with a tumble down the stairs, but as he looked near his belly-button, the whole lower half was a deep purple and severely swollen. He knew what this was; the kid was bleeding internally. How long had this been going on for? If Greg had fallen yesterday, it meant he was probably bleeding out for at least a day and a half. This was bad; this was really bad. No wonder the kid looked like death. He was literally dying and the fact that he was walking around at all was a miracle.

"'R-Rick? I don't…I don't feel good." Greg shivered.

Warrick looked down, seeing the blonde's face was nearly transparent, shining with perspiration and his lips were turning blue. "Where's the ambulance!?" He was panicking. Greg was bleeding out and pretty soon he was gonna die. He couldn't let that happen. "Greg, Greg look at me. Don't close your eyes."

"M'c-cold. M'so c-cold," Greg gasped.

"Just hang on, buddy, hang on. The ambulance is almost here."

"T-Tell Nick m'sorry. I s-screwed up."

"Greg-"

"And I didn't…fa-fall."

"What? What are you talking about?" Warrick cupped Greg's clammy face. He could hear the sirens getting closer, thank god.

Greg's eyes closed and he head fell against Warrick's shoulder.

"Greg! Eyes open, man. What do you mean you didn't fall?"

Greg moaned, his eyes remaining closed. "Got…j-jumped." He was so tired and it was hard to breathe; he just couldn't hold on anymore.

"What?" Warrick looked up, seeing the medics running towards them. "What are you talking about? When did you get jumped?"

But Greg didn't respond, because he had passed out…and he wasn't breathing.

"Greg! Oh god." What was he gonna tell the others? What was he gonna tell Nick?

~+CSI+~

Nick and Grissom were talking about their case when the supervisor's phone rang. Nick looked down at his files, waiting for Grissom to finish the call, not thinking anything of it.

"Grissom…Warrick, slow down, what happened?"

Nick looked up with a frown. The tone of Grissom's voice had changed drastically. It was the sound of fear. Warrick and Greg were out apprehending a suspect; what if something happened? He sat up straighter in the chair, listening intently.

"When did this happen…well, is he okay…alright, well keep me updated, I'll tell Nick and Catherine. Okay, thanks Warrick." He hung up and sighed heavily.

"What? What is it, Grissom? Is someone hurt?"

"That was Warrick. Greg collapsed at the scene after tackling their suspect. Apparently, he had internal bleeding."

Nick inhaled sharply. He knew he should've done something when he noticed Greg's behavior. "How did that happen?"

"Well, first Greg told him he fell down the stairs, but before he passed out, he said something about getting attacked last night."

"Jesus. Is he gonna be okay?"

"I don't know; Warrick rode with him in the ambulance. He had stopped breathing."

_Oh god, oh god, oh god. _"I need to get over there."

"You're not driving if you're not thinking clearly, Nicky. Tell Catherine the situation and have her bring you."

The Texan swallowed tersely, feeling sick to his stomach knowing he could've done something to prevent this. He left Grissom's office and went to go find Catherine. This was terrifying.

When they got to the hospital, they found Warrick pacing in the waiting room. Greg was in emergency surgery after having severe internal bleeding and possible infection. It wasn't looking good.

Forty-five minutes later, Greg's surgeon came out to give them the news. The look on his face made the three uneasy.

"I'm Dr. Ellis, I worked on Mr. Sanders," the man said, shaking all their hands.

"Is he okay?"

"He's stable. When Greg arrived, he was unresponsive, not breathing and his blood pressure was dangerously low. It seems that he was attacked; there were bruises on his chest, stomach, legs and back and some broken ribs. The blunt force to his stomach must've hit his spleen, causing it to rupture. It's a miracle he was walking around for thirty-six hours; he had to have been in excruciating pain, nauseous, vomiting and feverish."

Nick clenched his jaw. How the hell did he not see this? Why didn't he force Greg to go to the hospital? Most of all, why didn't Greg tell them about the attack?

"Tackling the suspect, like Mr. Brown wrote down here, most likely completely tore open the laceration in his spleen which caused him to go into hypovolemic shock. Like I said, though, he's stable, but we have him on a ventilator and will keep him on it until his body isn't weak anymore. His fever is up to 104 and since we had to remove his spleen- which is a major role in the immune system to fight infections- it's not getting any better. The spleen actually got severely infected, doing some pretty bad damage to his surrounding tissue."

"Is he awake?" Warrick asked, scratching his head.

"No and he probably won't be for a while. We've sedated him and will keep him that way until he's strong enough to fight the vent. You can see him, however, but only one at a time and disinfecting your hands and a mask is required. If you'll follow me, I can take you to his room."

The three shared a nervous look before trailing behind Dr. Ellis. They were scared; even though the doctor said Greg was going to be fine, it just didn't sound like it. Unable to breathe on his own, high fever and broken bones.

"What did Greg tell you?" Nick said to Warrick. "And why was he chasing a suspect?"

"He told me he fell down the stairs. I asked if he wanted to stay at the lab because he looked like hell, but he said he was fine. When we got to Roberts' apartment, it looked like he was about to pass out so I told him to stay at the car and I'd take him to the hospital after. Roberts escaped through the window and down the ladder, Greg must've gone after him. It was actually really impressive; I saw the whole thing. I think we underestimate the kid sometimes."

Nick chuckled weakly. _Maybe they did._ Once they all washed their hands, Nick put on a mask and went into the room first. It was quiet except the hisses and clicks from the ventilator.

"Oh man…Greggo." He stepped forward so that he was standing by the blonde's side. "Why didn't you tell me you got attacked, huh?" He reached forward and grasped Greg's hand in his. "God, your hand is so cold." Nick sat down with a sigh, staring at his friend; the kid's face was extremely pale, even his lips were slightly blue. His face, neck, and gown were soaked with sweat and even unconscious, Greg looked distressed. Nick pressed his lips together and smoothed back the blonde hair. "I'm sorry I didn't see this earlier. I could tell you were in pain, but…why did you hide it? You could've died. I was scared that we were gonna lose you." He squeezed the man's fingers. "Please be okay, Greg. Please wake up." Of course, he got nothing but silence. "Greg, say something…do something." He couldn't stand to see the kid like this. Sniffing, he got to his feet and quickly left the room. If Greg didn't get better, he didn't know what he'd do. The guilt was already eating him alive.

**Three Days Later**

Greg had been unconscious for seventy-two hours. Thankfully, he was getting better with the ventilator being removed, his infection going away and his fever breaking. They were able to sit with him longer and without a mask and once Nick heard that, he barely left the blonde's side. It was around three in the morning and Nick was dozing when he heard a small whimper come from the bed. He grunted, jerking awake and sitting up; Greg's fingers twitched, curling into his palm before his eyes sluggishly blinked open, staring up at the ceiling.

"Greg?" Nick smiled. "You with me, man?" He leaned forward and enveloped the blonde's hand in both of his.

Greg moaned and his eyes slid over to the Texan. What was Nick doing here? Where _was_ here? It looked like a hospital, but it was dark and he was so tired.

"Hey buddy." Greg just stared at him listlessly and Nick didn't blame him. The kid was still in the recovering stages and he would most likely be very weak and very tired. He sighed and cupped the man's face. "Go back to sleep, G. I'll be here when you wake up."

The blonde wasted no time shutting his eyes and relaxing once more. Nick smiled sadly and stood up to stretch before leaving the room to get coffee and call the team. They would be happy to hear the Greg was gonna make it through this.

Around noon, Greg woke up again, more alert but still pretty confused. Nick was finishing up his case report when Greg weakly sat up.

"Greg!" He grinned, putting the folder on the nightstand. "It's about time you wake up. You were starting to worry me."

Greg frowned, sitting up on his elbows and rubbing his eyes. "W-What? Where am I?"

"The hospital," Nick said. "You've been here since Friday; it's Tuesday afternoon."

"I-I've been here for three days?" Greg replied incredulously. "I…" he scratched his head. He didn't remember anything.

"Greggo? You okay, man?"

"I don't remember what happened. It's all blank…I don't know how I got here."

"Hey, easy. Take a deep breath, you're okay now."

"But what happened?"

"Your spleen ruptured. What do you remember last?"

"I was…I failed my test…you and Warrick were laughing at me…I went home and…"

"And what? Don't lie to me Greg. You told me you were sick, you told Warrick you fell down the stairs but…the doctors said you were covered with bruises the shape of boots."

Greg looked away. Now he remembered…he had been trying to block it out, but clearly he couldn't and now everyone knew about it. "Two guys came out of nowhere when I was almost home. They pushed me to the ground and when I wouldn't give them what they wanted, they kicked me, over and over and over again." He clenched his jaw and shuddered. "I gave them my wallet and car, but they w-wouldn't stop. I begged them to stop and they wouldn't. I almost passed about but they finally left me alone. I cancelled my credit cards and reported my car missing so I thought I took care of it."

"Jesus, man, why didn't you tell anyone? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I-I…I thought you would think I was pathetic and weak. I can't even pass the damn proficiency. I know you guys don't think I could become a CSI so maybe there's no point in even trying again."

"Hang on, back up. Greggo, we're all rooting for you, _especially_ me. And 'Rick and I weren't laughing at you, we were laughing because Chandra could barely even handle a day in your shoes. No one could, honestly; you're the best lab tech there is, no one can replace you."

"Yeah, so that's where I should stay, huh?"

"No, of course not. Greg, you're gonna be an amazing, CSI. I've always believed in you. You made a mistake, it happens."

Greg pursed his lips and looked down at his hands.

"What happened after?"

"My whole body hurt, especially my side. I took pills but it didn't seem to help. I don't remember anything after throwing up in the bathroom. It's all blank."

Nick sighed through his nose. "The doctor said the trauma punctured your spleen and it was a wonder you were walking around at all. After you tackled a suspect, it completely ruptured. They had to remove it. You almost died, Greg…we almost lost you; it kills me to even think about it. I'm pissed that you didn't tell me the truth. It was stupid and selfish; not only could you have gotten killed, but if something happened while you were supposed to have Warrick's or mine, or anyone else's back then-"

"I screwed up again, didn't I. I'm so stupid, maybe I should just quit, I'm never gonna get anything right," Greg choked.

"Hey, stop thinking like that, Greggo." He grabbed the blonde's hand and squeezed it. He hated that the kid's self-confidence was so low. "Stop, that's not what I meant. You just really scared us that's all and I want you to come to me or anyone else on the team if something is bothering you. You don't need to be embarrassed or ashamed that it happened." When Greg remained silent, averting his gaze, Nick felt horrible for scolding his friend when he was extremely vulnerable. "Greg, I'm sorry." He grabbed the man's arm and brought him into a hug. Greg sniffed, hugging back. "I'm sorry you went through that." He rubbed his friend's back and the blonde held back a sob. After sitting there for a few minutes, Greg groaned in pain.

"Hey, are you alright?" Nick pulled away and saw that Greg was sweating.

"S-Side…hurts."

"Looks like you're getting a fever again. I'm gonna go find a nurse to get you more pain medicine, okay?"

Greg forced a smile and watched as Nick left the room. Something didn't feel right; his stomach was burning, his heart was beating rapidly and he felt extremely lightheaded. Maybe his wound was getting infected again? No, this was something else. He wanted Nick to come back. Where was Nick?

The Texan went up to the nurse's desk and smiled. "Um, my friend, Greg, he's in room 426. I think the pain meds are wearing off, could he get some more?"

"Sure, I'll be right there."

Nick bobbed his head and walked back into the room. The second he got there, though, he realized Greg's heart rate was off the charts, his eyes were closed, face pale and he was wheezing. Running over to the bed, he placed his hand on Greg's chest and shook him.

"Greg? Greg!" He cupped the blonde's face; it was clammy. "Oh god." He ran back into the hallway and shouted for help. Within seconds, a few nurses followed by Dr. Ellis came into the room, calmly throwing words like increased heart rate, climbing fever, swollen abdomen. Not long after, they unlocked the bed and wheeled out of the room.

"W-Where are you taking him?" Nick asked nervously, following them down the hall.

"MRI," Dr. Ellis said. "We'll let you know more when we know."

Nick stopped at the double doors and watched through the small window as Greg disappeared down the hall. Running a hand through his hair, he let out a deep breath. "Shit."

~+C+~

"What happened, Nicky?" Catherine said, stroking Greg's pale face.

"I don't know," Nick replied, staring at his unconscious friend. Greg was gone for about half an hour before being brought back to his room, looking worse than ever and sporting an oxygen mask. "Dr. Ellis said he developed pancreatitis and apparently it's one of the typical complications after a splenectomy. Thankfully, they caught it fast but his heart rate was high and his oxygen was dangerously low. He was gonna go home tomorrow, but the doctor wants to keep him here a couple more days to keep an eye on him and make sure there's no other issues."

"Poor kid," Warrick sighed. "He doesn't deserve this."

"Yeah…and I didn't make it any better. I basically yelled at him for being stupid and not telling us what really happened. God, I hate myself right now."

"It's not your fault, man," Warrick said.

"It's nobody's fault," Catherine added. "Just bad luck."

"He's embarrassed and feeling really depressed about failing his proficiency," Nick said, leaning back in his chair. "Thinks he's a screw-up and can't do it again and feels like he should quit. He thought we were laughing at him, 'Rick, not at Chandra. It's no wonder he didn't say anything; he didn't trust us. How are we gonna get him to trust us again? I tried to tell him that's not what happened, but it didn't look like he believed me."

"Things will get back to normal, Nick," Catherine smiled sadly. "And we'll just have to work hard to earn his trust and help him get his self-esteem back also. We can't let this kid lose his personality."

Nick smirked, gripping Greg's fingers. "Yeah, what would we do without his crazy behavior?" He missed it…he missed the old Greg.

"When is he gonna wake up?" Warrick questioned.

"They said it's up to him, but hopefully within the next few hours. Where are Sara and Grissom?"

"They're trying to find the guys who did this. Brass found the report Greg filed and they'll let us know what they find."

"When I get my hands on these bastards," Nick growled. No one got away with hurting his little brother.

Greg didn't wake up again until after eight o'clock, but he was looking relatively better than he had been earlier. Nick sat there, waiting for the kid's eyes to open and when they did, he was relieved they were no longer glassy.

"Hey bud," he grinned.

Greg smiled back tiredly. "What happened?" He questioned hoarsely.

"You developed pancreatitis and it got pretty bad…but you're okay now."

Greg swallowed and nodded before closing his eyes. Nick expected the kid to fall right back asleep, but then the man spoke. "I don't blame you, Nick…I hope you know that."

Nick quirked an eyebrow. "Huh?"

Greg opened his eyes and blinked. "It's my fault this happened, not yours. If I had told the truth first thing, maybe it wouldn't have gotten so bad. I just felt…pathetic…like I should be able to handle things like that."

"No, Greg, it's not your fault. Don't get me wrong, I'm still pissed you didn't tell us, but…you had your reasons. I'm sorry you couldn't trust us, man, and we'll do whatever it takes to earn it back."

Greg yawned but grinned. "Thanks Nick."

"You're welcome, bud." He grabbed Greg's hand and squeezed it. Not long after, Greg fell asleep, but the Texan kept his grip on the blonde's hand. Things were gonna be okay. He knew that now.

**FIN**

**A/N: I know that the Warrick and Nick were on Catherine's team in season five, but decided to switch it up for this story. Hope you liked it! Please review if you can and stay tuned for more!**

**Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!**

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	39. Not a new chapter! Please read :)

**Hey all! Sorry, this is not a new chapter unfortunately, but I knew I wasn't gonna be able to upload a new one before I go on a trip abroad and didn't want you to think that I had stopped. I am going to be doing a program called Semester at Sea and if any of you have heard of Suite Life on Deck, that's basically what it is lol. I'll be on a ship and in and out of countries for four months and will have limited internet, but plenty of free time to write even if I can't update, however I definitely will when I can! Hope you stick around! Thanks for all your patience and thanks for reading! Stay tuned :)**


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